I am…not so much better as differently illed. One of those days you know you’re off track and you don’t give all that much of a damn about climbing back on the rails. I left a few minutes early and still got home at the same time. It’s in my head again. It’s got me in its clutches.
I need to get out. I need to break free. I have an idea. It just has to come through or something like it has to work and I will do it. I’ve drunk some rum, not much, but some. It is taking off the roughest edges. I am feeling that soft glow of not being able to concentrate on my worries. Instead, I’m floating in some pop cultural, nostalgic, past tense soup. Where everything is very amniotic and pink, so soothing like some sort of fleshy waterbed of the mind.
Sitting here, I remember an episode of Roseanne where the mousy girl with no self-esteem, Crystal, who was the very loud-mouthed Roseanne’s close friend ordered a drink called the Pink Swirl. I thought that when I grew up and became the alcoholic writer I was meant by God to be that would be my drink. It sounded and looked very elegant and lady like and also like a strawberry milkshake.
Come to find out, only tonight, only right now in researching this very post, that the drink was not a Pink Swirl, or my first thought, a Pink Lady. Instead, it was a Pink Squirrel and all of the romance has just been blown out of the whole deal. Oh, Crystal. Oh, Jackie…chasing after George Clooney. Oh, life, aren’t you just like that. Squirrel. Probably on account of the almonds in the creme de noyaux. It’s a dumb name.
Alright. I have to find something positive to dwell upon while I drink my drink which is not so pretty nor so poorly named.
Tomorrow: we go to the store and we can be unencumbered by bullshit for a full eight hours. Tomorrow is also the big event day in town, another one of those events I used to have to deal with and now can enjoy.
Mass Effect has a gameplay trailer out and while I don’t have a console yet that can play this game, I do have some rational hopes of being able to afford a used one by the time it’s ready.
I am going to try and talk to some people, vent and whatnot. Plan and whatnot.
I heard from a friend and potential reference and she’s up for helping me.
The kitten was not trapped in the refrigerator.
My sister might be bringing home fudge for me from Disneyland. I am down with this.
I am not at this particular moment as sick as I might be, though this headache is troubling.
I did force myself to get up and take a bath this morning so, there’s something that needed to be done and actually happened.