Henry's birthday was incredibly successful, with two out of three parties down and only one marginally hyperactive guest that we had to gently remind not to jump on furniture or torment the dog.
I tried to wear my hearing aids all day so I could pretend I was like everyone else and stressed myself into a corner with the noise and now my nerves are shot and they'll die a slow death in amongst the rest of me, drowned by anxiety. The coroner will come and remark that I must have died of a broken heart before realizing my lungs were full of fear, I was shot by a dozen arrows aimed by a cupid with evil intent and that self-destruction was blissful, not as painful as you would think and most likely wholly unnecessary, same as always. My brain will weigh nothing, for it's empty save for some crumpled up wrappers from the midway and one lone marble rolling back and forth that will fall out of my eye socket when they remove those and give them to someone in need.
(Surprise! Your eyes change color with your emotions, now, recipient! Like a psychotic Blythe doll.)
I would be up for a nerve transplant to fix my ears but I think things would be more fun if they just rewired my whole brain so that when I thought about popcorn I would see the color blue or when it rained I would automatically draw a flower. That would be great. Then I would have excuses for days like these.
I could say, Blame the nerves! I felt hot so I heard a song which made me do jumping jacks. Only they messed up and it put me on a perpetual loop and quick! Show me some popcorn so I can cool off already with the blue and then hopefully it will rain because it's hard to hold a pencil when you're jumping.
