|The all too often absent bastard, Hynos|
|Give her a patch of sun and she could sleep through WW Z|
Coco and I are in the car, driving down highway—she’s sitting in the passenger seat, not in her carrier. (this is the norm in non-dreamworld) 93 South through town iss still elevated and it’s a snowy, wickedly icy, grey December late afternoon.I woke just at that moment. It was a good few minutes before I was able to convince myself that the horror show was all just a bad dream.
The streets below are filled with holiday shoppers. I'm taking the deep curve past the the North End when I lose control and go flying through the guard rail to the ground far below. We landed just outside of Di Paolo's Meat Market. Amazingly, we’ve not taken out any pedestrians AND Coco and I are just fine. The car, not so much.
I'm talking to Coco. Explaining that we have to wait for cops and ambulance to arrive. Then the très grande, grande anxiety of how much this wreck is gonna cost me hits.
Why was I napping? I’m in another one of those Sleepless-in-Valhalla times. The good news is that I, generally, don’t go more than two nights in a row without serious shut-eye. The bad news? After one night of full on wakey-wakey I’m frazzled. After two nights, I’m a ragged mess.
Yes, I meditate. I do all the deep breathing and muscle relation exercises. I drink Nighty Night and Sleepy Time teas. I’ve a glass of vino and smoke a bone. All this is not always enough though.
Why? Eh. Stress. I guess.
I repeat myself when under stress. I repeat myself when under stress. I repeat myself when under stress.This from the song Indiscipline on the album Discipline by King Crimson. Go listen to it. It's mega awesome.
Another brill cut from the same disc—Elephant Talk.
Talk, talk, it's all talkAll the lyrics here—they’re inspiring.
Too much talk
Talk that trash
Expressions, editorials, expugnations, exclamations, enfadulations
It's all talk
Elephant talk, elephant talk, elephant talk
So what’s with all the stress? I’ve been really struggling with it lately—much more than usual. Some of it is surely due to the time of year—the last wearying dregs of winter. Some of it's our, The Amazing Bob and my, ongoing health crapoli. There's the constant crazy noise and bullshit of electioneering that I can't quite tune out. And some of my strain can be laid at other doors.
I think what I need to do is start a new painting or two. Go to the movies (Deadpool or Lady in the Van or BOTH?). Take a long trike ride (The snow’s melted for the most part AND today will be in the 50s!). Lunch out with TAB, with a stop at Saint Fratellis, will assuredly help.
Bottom line, I gotta get out of my head—it’s an entirely inhospitable place lately.