Now Playing -
Will & Grace.
Now Eating -
eyeball gum!
Now Feeling -
sleepy.
Now Tweeting
- Melanie
I felt vaguely nauseous all day from lack of sleep. Yes, I can breathe, but couple the need to ensure that my under-the-weather husband got his sleep with yesterday�s trying workday (funeral for the director of our Writing Program, which got me musing on mortality and Judaism and friendship and dead relatives and all that fun stuff) and you had me wide awake at 1:30 a.m. watching the history of the Romanovs on PBS. (Of course, I did manage to doze off during Nicholas & Alexandra�s assassination � leave it to me to sleep through the fun part. Dang.)
Though in many ways I�m the typical obsessive Pisces (shopaholic much?), I like to think I keep my emotions on a pretty even keel. I�m a firm believer in �Everything looks better in the morning,� because it has always worked for me. I don�t recall a period in my life where I�ve been depressed, really depressed, for any length of time. (Though if you read my diaries from junior high, you might have sought to have me involuntarily committed. Heck, I wanted to smack me around while reading through 'em � such a frickin� drama queen.) I realize how lucky I am. My husband suffers from depression, and I give him a helluva lot of credit for getting up each morning. I have a friend who is dealing with chronic pain, and my heart aches for her. I cannot imagine what I would do if caught in a downward spiral of suffering, be it mental or physical. Conversely, I have friends who are alcoholics, functional and non-. I look at them, and I think, �How bad is life for you if you have to drug yourself into numbness in order to just make it through the day?� Where is the point at which you lose that censoring mechanism, the thing that tells you, �Stop. You cannot continue thinking-feeling-acting like this. You need to help yourself, or find someone to help you.� What happens in your mind to push you over the edge of sanity and harm yourself, or others? How much is too much to bear?
I'd like to think I'm stronger than that, but you just never know. I only hope I never come close to that edge.
Still on a post-Halloween sugar high (Hey, Mel, maybe that�s why you�re having trouble sleeping! Ever think of that??) Y�know what I miss? Choco-Lites. Puffed-air-whipped-whatever-it-was chocolate! Pure chocolate genius. And Marathon bars. Braids of caramel coated in chocolate!
Is my hearing going, or do people no longer know how to enunciate on the phone? I put a call through to my boss that seemed to be from someone named �Trolley Time,� though I�m thinking it was actually Charles Someoneorother. Speak up, people! Also, The Speakerphone? Is Evil Incarnate and Must Be Destroyed.
The Halloween party was much fun. But kind of subdued fun. For me, anyway. Several people I expected to see weren�t there, people came and went in post-performance shifts, and there were the inevitable �Who the hell IS that person and why are they wearing THAT?� The Fabulous compelled me to wail on my friend Doug (dressed as Cruella DeVille by way of Eddie Izzard, and the winner of the costume contest) for having a better ass and legs than any woman in the room. I did a shot with a friend I hadn�t seen in over a year. I bemoaned my lack of theatrical employment. I confirmed that Malibu & Coke is my party drink of choice. I danced a little bit (it�s been too damn long since I�ve gone dancing, and it�s beginning to piss me off) and talked a lot. I received compliments graciously. I documented the first incidence of semi-absorbed conjoined fetal eyeball chewing gum!
Next night, I did some Obligation Theatre and tried to keep the schadenfreude in check. (And the hormones, because I have this friend who is aging so well it oughtta be a crime. Dayum.) And I got home and Huz was sick, so I vowed to plumb the depths of my hard drive (ooh, dirty!) and track down his email with the quickie chicken soup recipe and finally make the damn thing.
And I did. And it was good. And it worked; despite the unfortunate side effect of making Mom bitter and wanting to know why I didn�t just make her recipe, since it wasn�t that much more involved and tasted better, blah-blah-blahdy-blah.
Never underestimate a Jewish mother who feels her cooking skills have come under attack. It ain�t pretty.
I believe I am now sufficiently sleepy. Time to hit the hay. Wish me luck.
~^ would you like to
leave word? ^~
2
of you lovely people have left word so
far
~^ what
was ~ what
will be ^~
~^ randomize me! ^~
a very fine cat indeed - Friday, Jan. 17, 2014
happy new year! - Thursday, Jan. 24, 2013
this is where i am - Saturday, Jun. 30, 2012
this is how it is - Friday, Feb. 24, 2012
a very late last year's wrap-up - Wednesday, Jan. 18, 2012
~^
^~
