What a long week. I'm capping it off with the cold from hell, as that's where they are born. I lost my voice a few times already, a squeaky Kirstie Alley kind of twist to my words that everyone finds so amusing. Once my head was upright and there was coffee poured in it, I feel a little more capable. Have already cleaned up a bunch of things and am ticking through the inevitable list on the counter because I don't remember things anymore. I'm going to be the old man in that mental illness commercial in a few years, the one who buys lemons every day and there are lemons on the shelves and in shoes and pockets, too.
Oh hell yes, that will be me.
Ben fixed my iPhone. It is lovely. Just one or two little issues remain keeping me from loving it. Namely the low volume, lack of ringtone assignments for text messaging and horrific reconciliation with my email on the PC. But it works and that's the main, awesome part. I am leaning toward keeping the Berries going until July though when my contract rolls forward, so we have a backup iPhone in case he or one of the children drop HIS phone. Because shit happens and those phones are not indestructible.
Of course I can break things with my mind, so perhaps these are issues mere mortals never have to experience.
I told you I was special. You didn't believe me. Ha.
This is the last hot day of the summer. I plan to get some groceries and then some vodka and sit out on my Victorian stone patio and relish the last rays of the sun all afternoon with my love. I haven't seen him. There is no time that we have, only that which we borrow, and then we have to return it or pay fines we can't afford. No vacation loans, no renewals, because this is a bestseller.
It could be a keeper, but no one will allow it. I learn so slowly to do for me, it's an impossible task sometimes, like climbing a mountain without shoes on, like flying without visible wings.
How could you?
I feel perpetually left behind. Like everyone took their life instruction books and ran off and I can't find a book, no one included me when they were given out, there wasn't one with my name on it and I don't know what to do. I have no answers, just the try. Always the try. I've gotten good at failing first, almost to the point where I have gotten reckless and I do the opposite of what I plan to do because hell, it can't be any riskier.
Riskier doesn't look like a word.
Loneliness is an incredible, completely mental condition. Lobotomy for one please, because it's all in my head. So the next time you grab your handbook and take off for life or escape into life or hide out from life, for Gods sake, take me with you.