Premature lunacy brought on by indulgent lunacy
Have you ever been so depressed that you actually kind of like being depressed? That your big roaring cry feels so good, you can't imagine anything better than sobbing and blowing your nose? That you look in the mirror and think your pink nose looks nice on you?
And then it's over and you feel like a new person, like you can blog or face your biggest fear or something.
I've indulged myself today (hm, Lecram -- must've been reading my mind). Work was let out at 1:00 and my coworker and I went to have a drink at the sort of place that forgives you when you go have a drink at 1:00 in the afternoon. Yes, ladies and gentlemen -- a Cajun dive bar. I had four Scotch and waters. Don't look at me like that -- mojitos aren't allowed in the cold weather!
And while the drinks might have brought on this sudden bought of lunacy, it's been building for a while. And I do believe this lunacy is coming to an end. It has to. Although I cannot describe it or put it in a category, if I HAD to, I'd say I've just had a sort of breakdown -- the kind that everyone needs once every four or five months. Mini breakdowns that literally break one down so one can build oneself up again so that one may resemble a phoenix of sorts. From our teary ashes we rise and are able to be ourselves again: normal, happy, loving, free. If one can get over the exhaustion that comes with the heaving and blowing.
On a lighter note, I have a name for my guitar. It's not definite, but for the moment, I've decided on Paco Woody Silverman. And last night I was antisocial enough to comment on other blogs, look up guitar chords and look at jobs on monster.com. Not that I'm looking -- old habits die hard, that's all.
And then it's over and you feel like a new person, like you can blog or face your biggest fear or something.
I've indulged myself today (hm, Lecram -- must've been reading my mind). Work was let out at 1:00 and my coworker and I went to have a drink at the sort of place that forgives you when you go have a drink at 1:00 in the afternoon. Yes, ladies and gentlemen -- a Cajun dive bar. I had four Scotch and waters. Don't look at me like that -- mojitos aren't allowed in the cold weather!
And while the drinks might have brought on this sudden bought of lunacy, it's been building for a while. And I do believe this lunacy is coming to an end. It has to. Although I cannot describe it or put it in a category, if I HAD to, I'd say I've just had a sort of breakdown -- the kind that everyone needs once every four or five months. Mini breakdowns that literally break one down so one can build oneself up again so that one may resemble a phoenix of sorts. From our teary ashes we rise and are able to be ourselves again: normal, happy, loving, free. If one can get over the exhaustion that comes with the heaving and blowing.
On a lighter note, I have a name for my guitar. It's not definite, but for the moment, I've decided on Paco Woody Silverman. And last night I was antisocial enough to comment on other blogs, look up guitar chords and look at jobs on monster.com. Not that I'm looking -- old habits die hard, that's all.
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