Today I'm not feeling my best. A light and misty blue cloud has taken shape inside my head. It wouldn't be a stretch to say that if I had my druthers, I'd be at home with the blinds drawn, cocktail in hand watching something melancholy. Today I'd feel at home not doing anything but talking to myself about all the stuff I wish I'd said at one time or another. A day full of L'esprit de l'escalier if you will. If you don't now, you will want to, tomorrow.
And when I get in these moods, I can't do what I want to do the most which is just shut my brain down for a little while. Instead, it feels as though my brain goes into hyper drive and all I can do is overthink everything. I'm only a little annoying today. There are, after all, benefits to having your brain on overdrive. For example I was just listening to a song I have heard thousands of times before and I just noticed violins in one part that I never had noticed before.
And you know when you get into these moods, how everything just seems utterly redundant and pointless? Yeah, that. I had some time to kill before my 2nd job so I went shopping. Not even the delicate lilt of retail therapy that can usually pierce clear through the cacophony of a day spent mired in overwrought thought helped. It didn't stop me though. My attraction to spending money I don't technically have is what will keep me here, marooned on this long, long island with no end. Though it depresses me that everything always has to change, at the very least I am constant in my character.
Constant as a northern star.
And I said, "Constantly in the darkness? Where's that at?
If you want me, I'll be in the bar."
(Ten imaginary dollars to you if you know what that's from.)
At the moment there is the impending scratchiness in my throat that I will try my damnedest to appease by supplying it with tea and honey and airborne tablets and not singing along to all the depressing music I'm in the mood to sing along to. I can but don't want to get sick right now. If I'm going to lie abed all day, I want to be healthy for it. It loses its tragic romance if you are spooning a large wad of snotty tissues as you fall in and out of a deep, congested snore.