O, For A Muse OF Fire

It's effing freezing in the office this morning. Although it probably doesn't help that I'm a little sick, sore throat, chills, aches. And I have no medicine beyond my own evil will. Gotta heal up before Thursday's show. But, man, this is classic-Josh-getting-sick-symptoms. Especially the aches. Those are aways my barometer for a possible fever. I need to go down to the fourth floor and get some hot green tea. Dowse my throat with the Vicks Chloraseptic I brought to work. And pray to The Random that all of this goes away by Thursday. Cause, to be honest, I feel weak as a kitten right now. And my left knee feels hurt in an unrelated way. Moan, moan, moan, right. I think this is just my body's way of saying, "Thanks, asshole, for not sleeping all weekend. Ya, prick."

I want to go to yoga tonight. Wait, I'm going to yoga tonight, whether I feel better or not. I need to. I want to. I wish there was a realistic way to fit in yoga before the show on Thursday too but the class starts at 7:30 pm. So, is there any non creepy way of giving Elizabeth the yoga instructor a flyer for The Rocky Horror Show, like, hey, I'm in this and it'd be cool if you could see it (but why would it be cool? It's not like I know anything about her beyond that she's cute) And she probably has a boyfriend (or a girlfriend) cause that seems to be part of my new criteria -- only develop crushes on unavailable people. Behold, the power of Self Defeat.

Of course, it's not like I'm actually ready to date anyone anyway. Things are still too...I don't know the word I want. All I could do right now is cause mass confusion and awkwardness. Those things seems to be my X-men powers. I wish things were different. I wish things were.....I want to write, 'back to normal'. Or maybe I should wish to be better adjusted to how things are now, the new 'normal'.

I've been thinking a lot about last year -- mostly the horrible stretch, the nadir. Like everything else in my past, it feels as though that happened to a different person. There's a part of me that feels like I have no more in common with that weeping creature than I do with a bug in a jar. Maybe that's why I'm so stagnant, instead of learning from my past, growing from it -- I haze over it, uproot myself, forget.

But I was thinking today about that Art's Sake party (or was it Frank McClain's birthday? It was at his house, anyway) where I was left on that front porch for three, four hours, by myself. The whimper of whipped dogs, right. I was thinking about how bad that made me feel, how stupid and angry and sad -- and that was before the excrement hit the air conditioning. I don't know. That little memory was just preying on me this morning.

Once escape velocity reaches the speed of light, you are in a black hole.

I wish things were simpler. Or more confused. This middle ground is awful in its own way.

I don't like being on my own. It feels like the opposite of freedom.

Well, I hate to break up this nice downward spiral I've got going on but it looks like it's time for me to go to my Excel class