Therapy
I have been in an awful mood today. It is possible that I am a reptile, taking whatever emotional warmth I can from people around me. Days like this tend to happen when I am just around myself the whole time; perhaps I am not very good company. I don’t make very good activity choices on days like these, at least as far as buoying my mood. Today I went through some boxes of stuff from when my parents moved, things I haven’t seen for four years or more. Of course I found pictures of me and Jennifer. Of course they were photobooth pictures of us kissing. I should have known better than to go digging through there, but like I said. Poor decision-making skills.
Around five o’clock I decided to head to Borders and continue researching possible avenues of publication. Also a bad idea. Faced with authors already on the page, poetry already accepted critically, I couldn’t envision a world where I could ever make that alchemical transformation from, “amateur,” to, “published.” Lead into gold. I left Borders after Holly called and I realized how crotchety I was getting, bought some Backyard Burgers, filled my stupid face. I poured some Jack Daniels into my styrofoam cup of Dr. Pepper.
I was going to write a scene where I personify my fear of rejection and kick its ass with a long stick. It would have been therapeutic and swaggering and would have proven that, yes, I can do this, I can make it. But I’m tired. At least I know better than to listen to Radiohead.
February 28th, 2006 at 8:42 pm
Hey, watch yourself with that Radiohead comment, mister.
March 1st, 2006 at 10:07 am
I feel like such an ass for talking about my own problems yesterday, and not even realizing that you were feeling awful, too. Forgive me?
March 2nd, 2006 at 5:54 pm
If you even raise stick ONE at me, asshole, I will have my legal team suck every fluid from your fragile body, leaving the bone marrow for me to play in like a soggy sandbox.