Whatever

Can. NOT. Think of a clever title for this.

Maybe when it's done I'll call it something.

But so anyhow do you ever get that feeling that you've been doing everything right recently?  Like you're all "yeah!" and "awrright" as things go smashingly from one task to the next?  And then you get that sneaking suspicion that you're living on borrowed time and you're about to do something horrifyingly humiliating or something and all of that positive inertia is about to take a giant dump in your oatmeal?

That was me about two weeks ago, believe it or not.  And the good news is that the ol' universe bill (of which we're all so fond)  hasn't really been that costly this time around.  Luckily (and am I NOT composed entirely of luck?  your answer will indicate that I am.)  I said, Luckily, I just got a cold this time around.

Any of you longtime followers will know how I handle colds.  That is, poorly.  Google up the term "man cold" and you'll get a feel for where I go when the sickness starts to dig in to my sinuses and shiver my guts to pieces.

So you'll all be pleased to know that I've been very brave this time around.  I'm medicating like a stopwatch with the naproxen and the ibuprofen and the nyquil-derivatives and apart from feeling bruised and gooey, I'm feeling quite fine thankyouvery much.  Except for how I also generally feel like crap.

I'll have you know that I'm writing this in about my fourth hour of consciousness for today and the vertical-ity is doing a bang up job on my ability to see straight.  So do not depend on this episode for coherence is what I'm saying.

But my lungs are still hamburger-y and my nose is red as a tomato and all of my built-in airways seem to be eager to smother me the very moment I drop off to sleep.  My muscles are...  itchy.  My back is...  tweaky.  My eardrums itch and my tongue feels...  needles-y.  So I have, as it were, a man cold.

And on top of that, I feel like crap.  I miss home.  I miss my family.  I miss having a job where I have my personal space and a clear timeline in which all involved parties place their well deserved trust.

I miss breathing through both sides of my nose at once.

I miss that courage-y feeling of stepping onto the metro in the morning with my little headphones popped into my little earholes; when I think about how I'm going to kick today's ass with room to spare.  I miss the daredevil adventure of getting lost on my way to the grocery store in a town I've only ever been in for a few weeks.  I don't miss sleep.  I've been doing loads of that lately.  I do miss clarity.  I know I know, shuddup Carlos, I'm not supposed to WANT clarity.  But frankly, evil as it is, I could do with just a hint of the kind of clarity you read about in hero stories these days.

Direction?  I don't really need that.
Just a little bit of clarity though, just a touch, could go a long way.

Full disclosure, this whole 'poor me' funk I'm in likely has something to do with the treadmill of modern chemistry that I've spent most of today slogging along.  My own seratonin supply is pretty hoopty as it is, and the regular dose I take to reign that shit in is very likely having to share the airwaves with all this other stuff I'm chugging down.  SO I'm guessing that as long as I don't need to contact any scary bald guys named 'Heisenberg' for my meds in the next few days....  as long as I don't end up eating EVERY SCRAP of cookie-based carbon in the zipcode...  as long as I get my schlumpy arse out of bed tomorrow morning and realize that the sun did come up after all...

I'll very likely, and in all probability, be largely quite perfectly fine.

Funny how catching a cold can make a girl feel so go-ram sick.  you know?