09.Nov.2003
she's a grumpy old man
--
hack. wheeze.
The problem with living alone and being single while coming down with another case of chest thrax is the brutal fact you do not have a significant other who will come by to assuage your illness via tossing chicken noodle soup into a pan for you, rubbing your quasi-calloused feet for you, taping the season premier of Nip/Tuck for you while you nap religiously, merely to present the tape to you on a Japanese serving tray alongside flowers and steaming, steaming honey-teas, or distracting you by frolicking naked about your candle-strewn boudoir.
You are not allowed to beckon your fuck-buddies, past and present, because either:
(a) the majority of them are benighted psychotics
(b) they've moved to New York to launch their Charles Pierce spin-off career
(c) they do not wish to be bothered with that kind of relational responsibility, ergo the aptly placed "fuck-buddy" appellation
or
(d) you don't have a present fuck-buddy with which to begin.
Instead, you have drained your pockets on cartons of Minute Maid orange juice, washed three Bayer down with Vicks 44e Cough Suppressants, mastered the art of whittling down Celestial Seasonings Harvest Cherry Herbal Throat Drops with your tongue, in lieu of smoking cigarettes, and then choked yourself to sleep, where your subconscious was veritably raped with dystopian images that jerked you upright, anyway.
I have the heater set on 85F, but I'm still cold, and I'm still sitting here in a leather jacket, and I'm still aching, sans nicotine, with my discombobulated white-cell count making dizzy circles in my bloodstream.
I'm going to go whine, complain, and repine my flu-shocked central nervous system upstairs to sleep.
Somebody please smoke a cigarette and tell me what it's like, thanks.
--
Instead of going to sleep, I made the gigantic mistake of leaving the house. The outside world has the most fascinating ways in which it bids one farewell. Elucidation later. For now, I will have Songs of Faith and Devotion-led slumbering and inevitable lust-dreams of the sexiest nerd alive.
--
time & machine