Trail of Days...

Friday.....
Welllllll? So much for sleeping in on my leave day! A ginorrrrrrrmous! Sarcastic! THANK YOU! To all of those who made that impossible! Be sure that I will be forgetting to remember your next birthday. Guilt-free. Aaaargh?!? Now see? I'm having a moment of insecta-whatyoumacallit! I don't know if I can really HEAR a mosquito or whether my throbbing headache is causing a pretend mosquito to buzz. To add insult to injury? I'm wearing a formal shirt and pumps. On my day off! Ooooooooh-hoooooo! Criminal! If you know me, you'd know that formal wear?
I'd call the fashion police for myself, if I was caught over-wearing formal clothing! Formal clothing, to me? Is like rubbing menthol in your eyes to soothe them. Try it? Go on. Menthol stimulates tears. It's a proven fact. I didn't prove that, and neither did I research that. The headache-inspired mosquito that may or may not be flying in close proximity to my ears, told me. But if you're not one to just take a persons word for it? If you honestly wanna know how I feel in formal clothing? Stimulate your tears and then be sure to come back and tell me how comfortable an experience that was. But while you're screaming as if you fell twelve thousand feet and got your eyelid caught on a rusty nail? Mumble under your breath, don't blink. That might hurt! "DammmmM! I realllllllly shouldn't have done that." But thereafter? Once you've gotten the fact that you shoulda known better than to rub menthol in your eyes, outa the way? Realize that, THAT is how I feel in formal clothing!
I've trained my formal gear to hide in my closet. Haaaaahaahahahha, I swear, I did! They side step when I'm looking for something to wear. Okay? Alright! Admittedly, some would view it as me simply swiping the hangers to the side when I'm searching for the perfect, casual get-up, "To the left, to the left. E'rythin' formal, getting swiped to the left..in the closet...that's my stuff...."
but if you don't mind? Lemme have this one, please? I'd feel a lot better believing that at least I have control of my clothing.
I'm making less and less sense and its because I'm nervous. I'm hoping that the phantom mosquito doesn't bite me. I don't like to itch, and I've made it a point not to roll around in grass because of that. But when you've been bitten by a figment of your headache? I'm guessing. And it's merely a guess? I'm guessing that scratching a mosquito-bite lump that's not there is gonna send me straight into a state of confusion. Do you ever feel as though you need to scratch your arm, but you can never get to the part that's itchy? Like it keeps moving from spot to spot when you finally think you've gotten it?! That's called musical itch.
I'm home now.
Be careful. Please? If it looks like an orange? It might just be that you're fruit-blind! Or trying to peel a paw-paw! I've found out the hard way, toooooo many times that granny smith apples are green for a reason. No matter how much you wanna see the starkling in them? It aint there and never will be. You can tell that I'm trying to eat healthy, can't you? On Monday, I shall begin. I just haven't yet decided, which Monday. I've been trying to become one with my body....hummmmmmmmmmmmm! It's still very much FORCING me to feed it junk. I offer no resistance since I'm not trying to encourage defiance. If I fight it? I'd be defeating the oneness purpose, so?
Since I'm talking about days? I'm taken back to one in particular. A moment in time when I looked ahead of me and the figure and form that stood before me? All that my heart was filled with? Was admiration and overflowing pride. Where the words that clung to the tip of my tongue? Was, "Wow...I'm so extremely proud of you." I don't know what that feels like anymore.
Many don't realize that trust is a very powerful thing. A very powerful thing to break. Much like anything that was once whole? It's never again the same once a piece of it has been chipped away. The effects that it has on the person holding that bucket of wasted pride and belief? The only words left hanging from their quivering lips become, "Why the F would you do that to me when all I ever did was believe in you?" Those effects are so far-reaching that it shreds pieces of their soul that in all honesty might never again knit back together. Have you ever felt SO let down in some way that you felt a piece of your soul...die?
Saturday...
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhh-tishoo! This is why I don't drink liquor. Not only does it cause my sinus to say, "Look woman!? I don't wanna be here just as much as you don't want me here?! But I don't have a problem torturing you long enough so that you never put your mouth to a glass of intoxicating, coloured liquid again." That's what you call a friend! When your allergies become your guidance? You know that you're in good hands!
But it also prevents situations where?!? You sit on a chair that almost has your ass touching the floor and you don't even realize it. Then you try to get up and simply frown at the fact that the difficulty factor has trebled. You begin to curse yourself out, barely opening your mouth but anyone watching...that would be me...anyone watching can clearly see how mad you are with yourself. Meanwhile, you're looking around, as fast as you possibly can...well?! Fast like in slow, long, dragging blinks! Hoping nobody caught a glimpse of you having no choice but to give in to the gravitational pull caused by both alcohol and a chair that you're breaking minute by minute.
Then you try to defend the reason that your red nail polish has no boundaries. With the fact that you were not in your right mind when you painted them? You're expecting someone not to ask themselves how much of a right mind you're in, even as you sit there! Then you accuse the one closest to you of drinking what was in the glass in your hand before you took that last gulp. Then you ask everyone in a threatening fashion, "Do your'll want me to go home and watch Crime and Investigation and poison someone?" As if poisoning your own liver is not enough self-inflicted violence for one day?!?
Oh crap! Part of the metal leg is now completely off the chair. Annnnnnnnd! You finally make it up! Can't say the same for the that poor chair, unfortunately! But you make it up and start walking. For a few chips and a little convo on your way to the dip, which you will no doubt forget you had in 14, 13, 12, 11, 10, 9.............1 minute to go before you repeat yourself!
Somebody? Save me. Nicky Manaj? Anybody? Even if you know the words to her song? I am being rough handled by loud voices and several little pieces of chewed chips. My level of discomfort is rising, much like her need for the ladies room. However? It appears that she hardly remembered her initial reason for trying to get off the chair. Unless? No! No! Okay? You know what? Lemme not think the worst. I'm going through plenty already.
I-I'm now leaving in search of light. And a calmer, more natural, environment. Under the absolute, false pretence that I shall return. I say absolute because not an inch of me has any plans of keeping even one word of the sentence that the pressure has caused me to spew..."I'm coming back. I am! For realllllll!" My eardrums won't survive me telling the truth.
Sunday....
ROTFLMAO (Lynn) just asked me, "Is it an egg lifter? Why is it called an egg lifter?"
I said, WITH actions, "'Cause it lifts eggs." Annnnnnnnd that was that for THAT!
Hahhahahhahahaahhahaha! She burst out laughing. Me? I tried to keep a straight a face as possible. And failed. Now I KNOW, this person next to me? Is my sister!
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