Maniac Russian

By: L.

Apr 05 2016

Tags: ,

Category: self

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Aperture:f/2.8
Focal Length:5.7mm
ISO:200
Shutter:1/40 sec
Camera:FinePix S5100

I can get this post written, easy-peasy.   I got the groceries got this morning, even though the list I wrote last night that was meant to save time still left me wandering around for twice as long as I’d allotted.  I still got myself up and did it which is a minor miracle in this land where Procrastination would be Law if we could ever get around writing it up.   Taking longer than expected had another side effect: taking the 2 minute route home rather than the 7 minute one so I could get back with enough time before work to make the whole guacamole bacon grilled cheese sandwich I wanted for lunch.

It’s the easiest way to go if you don’t have the murder of evil thoughts attack you every time you find yourself stopped at this particular intersection.  If you don’t wonder from the left-hand turn lane if you could somehow get yourself into the through-lane.  When you feel so panicky that you have to get out of there, that you can’t make this turn, that you’ll pass out, that you’ll fail, that you’ll careen across the road with some stress-induced seizure.   That’s the worst, sitting there and feeling like you want to escape and you can’t, you’re trapped and heading towards a disaster of your own making.  Of course, two minutes later I’m home, pulling the groceries out of the car and grateful I did it.  It’s going to be awful every single time until it isn’t.  And then it might be awful again. Trying to come to terms with that is my struggle.   Sorry, I don’t like the phrasing there, but it’s true.  It’s a big pile of shit and it’s mine.

So, then, I drove us for our dash of work, with a few random stresses crossing my path, and then the sister drove us back home.  It was nice not to be longing for something  to make ground turkey tacos which was so easy I can’t even begin to tell you.   Then, hey, I even exercised again.  And made my bed.  I even got the taxes in an envelope and have stamps to send it tomorrow, saving the 25 bucks that the software wanted to charge me. Fuck, I am Janie Jump-Up today.

I can do all this, but I need to get the story written and that is just not happening.  All sorts of Jedi mind tricks have been employed, but I am distracted.  Perhaps by all the things that did get accomplished combined with all the little physical worries that won’t release, that don’t make sense.

Really, we’re in the window.  The pre-blood, you think you’re crazy, but you’re just hormonally whacked window.  Things are wacky in the window.  You swear off things here, you demand Sleep.  I honestly think what I need is some deep sleep. I woke up last night three times.  I think this would do me a world of good.

Sleep? Right.  I shouldn’t even try for anything bigger than that.

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