fenzle

Sheezus.

The stress of going to Nevada on monday walked up and mugged me last night. Took away all my charm and bravado and stillness and left me . . . broken. I feel like someone took the keystone out of my neck . . . like my head could loll back at any moment and expose . . . something.

Ouch.

Playing with Marsedit to see if it'll get me to actually blog here a bit more.

Anybody know how to to set viewing permissions from within Marsedit? Those settings aren't showing up in the "options" pane of the program and I've got some "friends only" stuff I want to write about.

Well . . . just got "officially" diagnosed for Adult ADHD . . .

Started some drugs today. Supposed to take a few weeks to take effect. This is really scary.

Had a freaking disturbing dream last night that my dad died . . .

Which is weird, because my dad DID die like 12 years ago.

In the dream it was much more of a present thing. Very vivid.

My life kind of rocks.

Great 4th of July weekend so far. Went camping Friday night out by rainier at my friend Brian's cabin. Got back in time yesterday to head down to a BBQ on a houseboat in Lake Union. Nothing like being RIGHT UNDER the fireworks when they go off.

ANd today's shaping up pretty well too.

Weird dream last nigh.

BRiefly . . .

Was going to "band practice" with my brother when I realized I'd forgotten my gloves at home. I tried to rush home to get them (hitching a ride with a nice old guy) but forgot where the heck we were staying.

Halfway there, my right toe started to hurt. I reached down and ended up squeezing to GIANT FUCKING BEETLES out of my toe where, I assume, they were LAYING EGGS.

FUCKED UP>

Went back to the office today. Feeling about 60% I'd say. Able to do *some* work, but still feeling really run down and beat up. Still, it feels good to be able to use my brain again.

Burning midnight (this is what happens when you go to bed at 7) . . .

I dare you to try and read this awfully-written Joss Whedon interview from "The Independent."

Somebody needs to have their fingers sawed off . . .
http://www.independent.co.uk/arts-entertainment/tv/features/joss-whedon--and-they-call-it-buffy-love-1687099.html

The use of commas alone in this thing is a capital offense.

Everything starts to feel better. Or if not better, then "Better."

I still feel a little bit nauseous and a little bit off and weird and miserable.

But suddenly I know I'm going to be ok. Suddenly I can think straight. Suddenly I feel alive again.

Thank jebus.

How quickly you can get used to this kind of lifestyle. I mean, I've barely left the house this week. I haven't touched anyone at all. ANd when I do go to the store I feel like some kind of alien in a space suit. I don't blink. I barely open my mouth to speak. My balance is unsteady. I feel like "the other."

At this point a "normal" life sounds strange. What would it be like to shake someone's hand? What would it be like . . . to run . . to kiss . . .? What strange world this is. ANd what strange people in it.