A Little Porthole into Neko's Hell

This article is right up my alley today.

This is what it's like to be me (I can't promise this will be interesting): Woke up on the couch. It's about 1:30pm and I'm all wrapped up in cords. It looks like I fell asleeep watching Sleepy Hollow with my portable DVD player in my lap. I lay there for a few more minutes, wondering if my bladder is really full enough to warrent getting up. Deciding that it's fairly urgent, I untangle myself and stumble to the downstairs bathroom, glancing at the wall clock on the way. Christ, it's already so late? Cross out half the things on my mental "to-do list" due to time constraints.

Then, I stumble to the upstairs bathroom and squirt saline into my eyes. The creature in the mirror seems dangerous, so I grab my pills and get out of there quickly. About the time my bare feet hit the linoleum of the kitchen floor is about the time my brain powers on. When it happens, it is no slow process. My thoughts go from snaily, brainstem basics to a cage full of rabid monkeys. 0 to 60 in 1.5 seconds. It would be fantastic if the rabid monkeys were a bit more organized and a whole lot less neurotic. I have what I think are great ideas sometimes. Like, "If I were to blog first thing in the morning, my posts would be so much crazier and entertaining", and that might be the case if I didn't have to sit here for a half hour waiting for this chunk of shit to cooperate with me. (watch my post get deleted just for writing that)

In the kitchen, I scour fridge and cupboard for a suitable, low effort bite to swallow with my meds. Some liquid too. Is it a hot tea day, or a mixed berry juice day? Eyes shift toward the large open windows and up at the sky for an assesment of the weather situation. Eyes shift back down toward the elementary schoolers on recess. Three of them watching me from behind the back fence. I turn back around and scratch my ass. I decide it's a hot tea day and dig around for some peanut butter. As I'm spreading a piece of whole wheat mini pita bread with the nutty goodness, I notice the back of the jar (is it still a jar if it's plastic?) has a warning. "Allery notice: contains peanuts". Um...okay. Some people are apparently more retarded than I am.

Strawberry preserves seem like a good addition to breakfast. I finished the jar, but there's still a little left that I couldn't get with the knife. My tongue tries to reach it. Sticky. As I send my fingers in to retrieve the leftover jam, I notice that I'm shaking. Is that because I haven't taken my meds yet, or because I haven't had a cigarette in 2 days and I'm going through withdrawl? As soon as my tea cools down, I'll swallow my meds and a half hour after that, I'll be normal enough to blend in with the rest of society. Suddenly, I decide that I'm in love with the person at Celestial Seasons who decided that tea bags shouldn't have staples anymore, because people these days like to microwave their tea. Whoever you are, kudos to you my friend!

Every morning, I check the front table for a note from my father. Especially, now that I'm not employed, these notes are demands for some sort of chore to be done. The "Please" is like the letter "t" in French, it's there, but it's not really expressed. "Please clean up your brother's room this week. Thanks." It's like being back in fucking high school again. I have to move. I swear to myself that when I get back to working, I'll save every penny and U-Haul my ass out of here as fast as possible. The next check I do is for my kitties. It's like a little game of mine to guess where they'll be. When I find them, I say good morning and scratch behind their ears. Just checking in.

I'll do a couple of things on the computer and then hop in the shower. I can't really start anything serious until I've had a shower. "Okay, I'm ready to start my day now! What? It's 5 pm already?!" I hope I can get out there today and pull weeds before the weather decides I should stay inside. Although, it's late enough that I can start drinking and switch on Harvest Moon instead...