Hey kids,
Finally left the house tonight after being pretty sick for a while. I haven't digested a proper meal in ages. And what I do manage to choke down exits post-haste in any manner of vile and colorful ways.
So venturing out tonight was quite a rush. I felt completely purged and empty and in an almost-transcendental state. My brain was awash with new ideas, letters that I have to write, confessions that I have to make, music that I have to listen to. The setting sun on my left as I sped down Hwy 395 seemed way too hot and way too bright.
Bed Bath and Beyond seemed much too pedestrian for the mindset that I found myself in. But it had to be done. My friend's wedding is Saturday, and if I didn't take the time tonight to get him something off his registry, he and his bride were going to wind up opening a bag full of Slim Jims and M&Ms from 7-Eleven.
I was still very slightly feverish, so as I ambled up and down the aisles, I developed a slight sheen of sweat, and my hair started sticking to my forehead. Counting Crows is piped into the store. I rejoice. I shimmy. Followed by James Blunt. I crash hard. I ran into a woman that I recognized from the February caucus. I said, "Hey, I remember you! You were caucusing for Hillary!" "Oh, no..." she says. "Not Hillary!" But she lies. Like a dog. And I don't know why. We chat for a bit, but I still can't figure out why she's lying to me. But then, like all my great ideas in the car, she's gone. And so is my need to know why she lies.
Next up... a new skirt to wear on Saturday. So it's off to Penney's.
I haven't eaten in days. I'm hungry, but the thought of food repels me. I feel like I am floating. My head feels like it is hovering about two feet above the rest of my body. I must, MUST, be as tall and willowy as I feel. Two seconds alone in the fitting room with its fluorescent lights and my pants pooled at my ankles dispels that notion.
I don't browse long. I buy a skirt and get the hell out of Dodge.
It's getting dark now, after 8. I had told you kids as I walked out the door that I would be bringing dinner home for you and your daddy as there is practically nothing in the house to eat. I'm panicking. What the hell kind of mom feeds her kids dinner after 8? Or 7 for that matter? The thought of watching you eat fast food again churns my stomach. What then? I decide to bring home pitas for your daddy and me. I will have time in the long, torturous Pita Pit queue to decide what to bring you.
The Pita Pit queue puts me in contact with with more humanity than I have been in contact with in days. I'm giddy. And not in a good way. The cashier chats me up and I respond with giggles and grunts. I call the man in line in front of me "duuuuude." I grab my pitas and go.
During the drive back to G-ville, the ideas, the ideas, the music, the confessions, the letters return. My eyes are two hot coals in my head and my head continues to float somewhere slightly above and to the left of the rest of me.
Dinner. Dammit. What are you two going to eat? Why oh why can't you like pitas?
KFC. It's chicken, it's potatoes. You love chicken and potatoes. Yes it's fast food, but I just need to feed you something that you'll eat with no complaint. Like me, you've been feverish and you haven't been eating. We'll get back to the vegetables and the whole grains tomorrow. Tonight, I just want you to consume. Anything.
I'm home. I'm home. All I can think is "Waverly, Waverly, eat eat eat, so Momma can go to bed." It's a chant. I didn't even touch my dinner. In fact, when Waverly promptly threw up what little KFC she did manage to eat, I threw up a little, too. Never mind the fact that I had nothing to throw up.
Everyone's asleep now. Ideas and notions still burn bright in my head, but I'm too sleepy to heed them. I can't sleep. The innocuous aches and joint pains of the receding flu keep me alert when all I want to do is sleep. Sleep. Sleep.
Which brings me to now. It's after 1 a.m. My floating head has come home to roost, but is still awash in Very Important Things That Must Not Be Forgotten.
Hello, Manic. It's been a couple years, now hasn't it. I'd just as soon you didn't make yourself too comfortable.
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