Slept savagely bad. Required extra panic pill to get heartbeat down to normal. I blame it on the violent and aggressive pizza, an ill-advised delivery order I’ve meant to avoid but somehow keep returning to. I don’t eat good food. I guess it will catch up to me somebody.
Dreams started but got interrupted. I was in a room where an increasinly large army of people were running toward me, armed and smiling, ready to make war with this distinctly not war-ready individual.
I was thinking about the woman I connected with, how we might meet up tomorrow, New Years Day. I decided another connection was a fraud. Her replies became increasingly robo and her constant returning to the subject of investing in crypto was a clear warning sign. She also appeared not to be in NYC as claimed, but in Houston. I cut her off. The other woman, though, she seems sweet and real.
I got a scary weird call yesterday. A clearly distressed woman wanted us to change her name IMMEDIATELY from whatever her given name was to a zip code for (I think) New Milford, CT. Her new name would be something like 04572-1923 but she didn’t have time to go through courts and procedures. She needed this change made NOW. Clearly influenced by some powerful narcotic, or else having a stroke. It was telephone performance art like no other.
I read an interesting bit by a doctor saying that men do not wash certain parts of their bodies and they really should. Men, she said, do not wash their ears, toes, legs, belly button, or legs. I think she also said finger nails. She could also have mentioned butthole. I started blasting water up there for just a few seconds every shower and it’s made a world of difference. I only sit uncomfortably after a messy, hurried shit but any trace of hemorrhoids seems to have washed away with this simple technique.
But her list of body parts was interesting. I’m guilty of much of her accusations, though I wash my legs. I think it’s a side-effect of sitting when I shower. It’s just easier to actually wash them with soap than when standing.
But the toes, no, I guess I never do that. I’ll start. The ears I think I take care of while washing hair. Same goes for fingernails.
It’s the end of another work week here, and the end of the year that changed my relationship with time. My one year anniversary is January 14, at which I’m supposed to get a raise and possibly start moving to another division. I don’t know how much of a future I have here, but going from the bohemian flaneur life to full-time government was a change I needed more urgently than I knew. My dream of getting so into the structure of things that I’d quit drinking seems to have been just that, a dream. But I drink far less than before I came here and it’s been no problem whatsoever, at least by my estimate, which is probably lazy and biased.
I was considering my sleep sprawl contortions overnight. I sprawl out and cover half the king sized mattress. One girlfriend thought it was hilarious how I would, while sound asleep, grab her face or simply lie down right on top of her. Every day she’d provide a play by play account of my nocturnal machinations. I am a pain in the ass to sleep with, when talking about actual sleep.
