I woke up this morning a half an hour before my alarm went off. This means it was the ungodly hour of 5 a.m. I was wide awake, and then the allergy monsters attacked me. I'm almost out of my twice-a-day lifesavers, and the sun is out and things are blooming, and my eyes are swollen and I can't stop sneezing, and I feel frankly hung over. I haven't drunk anything remotely alcoholic in almost a month.
And last night I sank into blessed apathy while watching a delightful show called "The Secret Life of Cheesecake." My feelings of missingness have faded somewhat, and other drama is now subsuming it. And it wasn't even of my own making. Sometimes I feel like I'm not paying one jot of attention to the things going on around me. I mean, when things blow up I can certainly look back and say, I see how it happened. But some prevention might come in handy.
Like taking allergy drugs so as not to feel fuzzy and out of sorts on the hour long commute. Like forgetting all the good things about an ex boyfriend, so as not to get all weepy over a good song.
I wonder if this is what it's like to walk around with no skin on? No drug in the world will get rid of it.
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