I’ve only been awake for around 15 minutes, and I woke up rough, so I am not even half awake yet. I am, at best, a high functioning sleepwalker.
In fact. odds are that there’s one of those horizontal lines in this entry’ future because I am, with great effort, going to do 500 words then go the fuck back to sleep.
At least, that’s the plan.
To coumpound my infogment, I am out of Diet Coke. So no artificual consciousness to the rescue for me. `My body is used to getting a liter of Diet Coke with lunch and without it I am even more unfocused and confused than usual.
I ran out because I ended up not going to Paragon on Wednesday night. Had no choice. My Irritable Bowel System… System? Syndrome…. went off like I had swallowed a live hand grenade and I was obligated, shall we say, to stay close to the bathroom.
It was very unpleasant. Like I was being squeezed like a tube of toothpaste. Everything Must Go. Luckily, that kind of thing usually disappears once I am empty.
Not always, though. Let’s just say dry heaves are even worse from the other end.
I feel so spaced out right now. Staying focused on blogging instead of drifting off into thought (and maybe sleep) is even harder than usual. I keep having to pull myself back to the here and now like I am a dog with a shortattention span.
Oh well, I will make it through. I am half way to 500 words already. Just gotta keep on chugging and finish my lunch and then I will be able to go back to sleep.
Assuming I can find my way back.
Tomorrow’s my borthday. I will be 45. A nice, divisible, manly age.
Like a Colt .45. Hmmm. A colt is a gun. Guns have triggers. There was a famous horse named Trigger. It all makes sense now.
Horses got big weiners. Hee hee hee.
Being 45 will not be a huge difference from being 44, I expect. It’s just a number. I am looking forward to celebrating with my friends on Sunday. No big party or really any party. We don’t put that much effort into things, truth be told.
Sometimes I wonder if I would be better off on a psychological level if I spent more time around healthy, normal people. I am, in many ways, a product of what I absorb and I absorb whatever vibe is around me, and while I dearly love my friends, the argument could be made that we are not making each other any healthier.
Or maybe more time around healthy people would just make me feel like more of a broken freak and I would be even more depressed.
Still, sometimes I ponder being a boarder at some nice family’s home and seeing if I can learn what they know and I don’t, and try to comprehend how healthy people live and what it is like to be functional.
Maybe absorb their patterns while I am at it.
Tine to resleep.
OK, I have napped and I am a lot closer to human now, so let’s finish this thing.
I am really going to have to do something about summer. Specifically, afternoons. I have had a lovely time of blissful amnesia about how bad afternoons can be for me when it gets hot, but now summer has returned and I am going to have to figure out how to cope with this shit.
Otherwise, there will be no way in hell I can get anything done in the afternoons. The heat simply wrecks ny energy level and destroys my executive function and other area of mental clarity, and I am not putting up with that shit this year.
I know one part of the cure : hydrate constantly. CONSTANTLY. It’s something I figured out when living in Silly Con Valley and it’s what led to my habit of drinking a lot of water in the first place.
And that was a dry heat.
But that’s not enough. At the very least, I need a desk fan. Sorry…. they prefer to be called desk enthusiasts now. Please, no emails.
Ahem. A fan for my desk. The kind that blows air at my poor overheated noggin and therefore keeps the nasty demon of heatstroke away.
I fucking hate my vulnerability to heatstroke and heat sickness. Just for the record.
I also plan to keep 2L bottles of water in the fridge, or maybe something smaller so it will fit in my mini-fridge. Hydration is great but hydration with cold water is even better.
And that’s fridge cold, not tap cold.
Of course, in a perfect world, we would have AC. Maybe I will do some investigation into the possibility I’d be willing to pay a lot to get the miracle of air conditioning happening in this lil apartment of ours.
That would involve enthusiasm and focus and effort, though, and we’re not too good at that. We are all depressives to some extent and therefore have a lot of resistance to doing thing, especially new things.
TGhat’s the sort of thing that makes me wonder if I wouldn’t be better off somewhere else. Amongst more energetic people. That way I could let them provide the energy while I provided the wisdom and guidance.
But not too much energy, or I will not be able to keep up. Man getting old sucks.
I was reminded of that rather forcefully yesterday. Someone mentioned a game called Warframe and I knew I had tried it but couldn’t remember what it was like. So I looked it up. And then it all came flooding back to me.
Yes, I had tried the game. But I couldn’t make the learning curve. IT was giving me too much information and novelty too fast and I just couldn’t take it. So I quit.
That’s the shit that makes me feel old, dawg. It’s the same thing that happened to me in that linguistics course. Age has imposed a hard limit as to the amount of bandwidth I have to absorb new information, and if the info stream exceeds that, I crash.
So here’s to being 45. May I get wiser faster than I get dumber.
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.