I'm having one of those days. Those cranky, lethargic, not feeling so good sort of days where I kind of am (how are you kind of, right) nauseated but don't want to resort to taking an acid reflux pill unless I absolutely have to (update:just did), so instead I drink lots of water in case I'm mistaking my nausea for dehydration as I sit in my third floor apt., that's if you don't count the basement, otherwise it's the fourth floor, wondering if I'll ever feel like I'll have a life, and money, again. Wondering if I should get a job that requires I head out of my house everyday, just so the only person I talk to on a regular basis doesn't have fur and a limited vocabulary.
Maybe it's because I drank last night that I feel so blah today, I think alchohol has that affect on me. And while I wish I was one of those enlightened beings who could do away with drinking and such, I'm not that strong. Which is ironic, cause in lots of ways I am strong. Just not when it comes to the social intoxicants. Sometimes I think it's because without them, I'd be less interested in not only being out, but in other people. Or that if most other people are doing something, then I'd have a hard time relating to them as my sober self. I think that's just my thing. I'm sure it's not true, otherwise everybody would always be fucked up.
Regardless, today feels rough. I'm not hungover, I didn't drink that much, just smelly and tired and thinking too much yet again. I've got a class to teach tonight, a cat to talk to, and an interview for a magazine article in less than a half an hour. And yet I can't pull myself together in that wake up sort of way.
I guess it's just one of those days. Maybe tonight, after sleeping it off, I'll forget to feel blah, but right now it's hard. It's even harder cause things are good now. Real good.
In other vain news. I have this bump on the tip of my nose that will most probably never go away. I've had it for a while, and I'm trying not to pick it, but lately there's something about it that's irritated the fuck out of me, so now I can't stop touching and rubbing it. The bump on my nose is so red, I'm waiting for Santa to ask me to guide his sleigh this year (hey, stranger things have happened). It's not the first dot I've gotten on my face, and now, thinking back to high school, I think I cursed myself with this one. There was a girl I knew who had a popped capillary in the middle of her nose. I prayed that that would never happen to me, so of course, I got a popped capillary on my cheek. And now this.
Could it be the power of thought?
If so, maybe it's time to think of happier things.
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In other news: My next column is up at Soudish. And so is a new podcast at Playgirl (well, it's not that new, but I forgot to tell anyone).