What I’m not… exactly

A body pillow.

Pillow Image via Wikipedia

Here’s the scoop on what’s absolutely not happening with me these days…

1) I’m not sleeping…

In my bed, that is.  I have a cold, and for some reason that probably has to do with limiting my possible positions, I can only sleep on the couch. I’m usually an expert sleeper, but even Nyquil won’t keep me asleep in my own room at present. (Remember when Nyquil was all full of knock-you-out drugs and even when you were most miserable you could get a really great night of sleep and once in a while even have technicolor dreams to boot? Stupid reformulation, pulling the perfectly good pseudoephedrine out of my cold remedies.)

But sleeping in the living room means I have to move all the clocks around, because my travel alarm clock (so I don’t sleep thru work) ticks loud enough to wake the dead anyway, but combine it will the wall clock on the living room and it’s like trying to sleep with a stopwatch in my ear.

2) I’m not eating…

Proper meals at proper times, I mean. I worked from home again today, and went from major crisis to major project and back. Crud, I just remembered something else I have to do. Anyway, I’m not eating. I think it’s because adrenaline is like heroin.

Well, actually I don’t know anything about heroin, or any other drug stronger than Nyquil (which I guess used to be in the meth family), to be making that kind of comparison.  Except all those models for a while there that looked too skinny and pale and a little sickly, like they hadn’t food, sunshine or fresh air in at least a month, were all described as “heroin chic” which makes me think that when you’re on heroin you don’t eat much. I didn’t eat much today, because I was too busy and distracted by my frenzy.

But then I ordered a pizza, and had lunch a little after dinnertime. Actually maybe that was breakfast. Whatever.

I’m not talking…

Not in a normal voice, anyway. Because if I try to talk in my normal voice, not much comes out and what does come out is just all squeaky and hoarse and breaks up. I don’t think my voice is naturally all that high-pitched, but at present the only way to express myself and be heard is to shift my voice to a much lower register. And even then if I have any inflection in my tones that shift my voice upward the least little bit, I lose words.  This little voice game is the only way I could order the pizza, and the guy sounded a little suspicious, like I might be a kid trying to pretend I wasn’t. They brought the pizza though, and that’s what counts.

I’m not filtering…

Everything here feels like I have typed it very fast because I am thinking it very fast because I have not had any cold meds today and the adrenaline is still running rampant in my system and the late-evening jolt of pizza really put me over the top. I have to go take care of that thing I remembered. And then, I have to go wind down so I can try to sleep… somewhere… tonight.


About aka gringita
Flotsam generator. Amateur photographer. Avid traveler. Christ follower.

2 Responses to What I’m not… exactly

  1. Aww, I hope your cold gets better soon. 🙂


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