I’m sick. Physically, mentally, and socially.
Seems I picked up some kind of lung thing in Mexico. Despite heavy doses of miracle powders ranging from deep forest mushrooms to marine algae–I still look and feel horror show. The other physical malefactor being stress from work issues I don’t want to elaborate on, and my own piteous incapacity to handle life…
gone Mental ( -MH )
Children who don’t sleep at night are creepy birds. I was one of those wide-eyes, and it wasn’t/isn’t a hoot.
So much seems to be about sync, records just don’t play right if spun even a little too slow or fast. My reset button was intense exercise, which is unfortunate, due to pernicious injury I spend a lot of time sidelined. If I wasn’t eating as healthfully as I am now and drinking as little–I’d be sunk at the bottom of the deep end of the depression pool.
Social defunct (S&M)
Being immune-compromised, exhausted, and synapse taxed makes it toilsome to be around others. If you have ever worked in “the service industry” you know how unserviceable many of the bloated, baffled, boring, and banal who stumble through are.
Here in Palm Springs California, most of the tourist look as if just seconds before someone smashed them in the face with a baseball bat. Stunned and confused they want me to make them a drink identical to the swill they drink back home at their neighborhood Applebee’s or Tweedledicks.
It’s painful even pretending to be interested as they tell their grating stories or stammer about how they don’t really mind homos as long as they don’t make a show of it or act, you know, too gay. And then I’m supposed be funny, endearing even, while I cater to their every piggish whim running back and forth for diet coke refills and extra ranch dressing.
Looking for a bridge to live under
Beyond the food service thing, I am fighting to find a way to communicate with people that doesn’t feel like it is sucking the life out of me.