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There is always a price to be paid to getting too worked up about anything. Maybe I've been way too indulgent with this Black Mood that has followed me for the past few days, which has since settled into the pit of my stomach. It has summoned the manifestation of my long-absent lifelong companion, the Allergy With No Name. What I mistakenly imagined was a zit on my upper lip last night, has festered into an angry little blister... if history serves, it'll set up camp with some friends and try to get infected. Leprosy-like. And Oh, what a time we'll have. Dammit. Return of Swamp Thing. Reality check. For days, I've felt as if I've fallen out of step with the rest of the world... like I'm speaking in unintelligible tongues. Staying below the radar. Counting down the hours for the release of sleep. This shit has got to quit. It's like the equivalent of a phonograph needle that won't slip into the groove, and make the music start. My method to get the rhythm back on track? Jetting out of here at 2AM, grabbing my bags, and getting the Hell out of Dodge. To hell with work, tomorrow. Color Me Gone. |
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