Sick Sad World

I am sick and it is fucking with my thoughts. I've got a chest cold (is that the same thing as bronchitis? I dunno, I never go to the doctor anymore), I'm losing my voice, and I have a weird itchy and painful rash that started on my arm, and was told by several people that it looked like shingles, it was acting just like shingles, but is now on both arms, hands, and is creeping up my goddamn neck and I am convinced my body has just decided to slowly self-destruct. I am at work, giving less of a shit than normal. Pretty much zero shit. If I were to stay home, I would still have to deal with being alive, but without the perk of being paid for it, so I decided not to call in sick. I'm hoping that I'm contagious.

Guess what? I'm going to bitch about everything, so if you don't want to hear it, quit reading and fuck off. It's that Everything Is Shit time of year. Out come all of the Christmas decorations and my full-blown depression. Traffic, greed, shitty weather, packed stores, religious nonsense, annoying commercials, bad movies, and Elf on the Goddamn Shelf. Somewhere deep down, I do like Christmas...in my own way. I just don't feel like digging that deep at the moment. Fuck It.

So sweepy. Can't function.

Holy hell, it's almost holiday time. I'm dragging. No energy for it. Or for anything. The thought of having to do anything, be it work or homework or dishes or family stuff or everything that surrounds the holidays (oh, fuck, the tree, the shopping), the thought just exhausts me. Just the thought. I want to sleep through it all.

I think I'm closing in on the bottom of my roller coaster ride this year.

Windows 10, writr, and alcoholic beverages.

So I just updated to Windows 10 the other day. I can't really decide whether I like it better than Window 7 (I never had 8, so this is a bigger change for me than for others). I'm still trying to wrap my mind around everything. I poked around in the app store last night while I was at work, looking for journal apps. I found one called Writr that gives prompts to help get the words flowing. The first prompt that I actually found interesting enough to write something on was, "Describe your favorite alcoholic beverage." Simple enough. Yet not. I think I will post some (or all, I haven't decided) of the outcomes of said prompts here, since this really is my JOURNAL-journal.

Describe your favorite alcoholic beverage:

It's waiting for me after a trying day. I can't say I have one specific alcoholic drink that I can call my favorite, much in the same way I don't have a favorite song or favorite band. It is the right adult beverage at the right time. When I return home from work, it's the cold bottle of beer I pull from the fridge after changing into my pajamas. When it's game night with my family, it is a potent rum and coke that loosens the laughter from my belly. On vacation, it is whatever tropical pink or red relaxing concoction with a memorably unique name that strikes my fancy. Sometimes it's wine. It's not often wine, but there are those times that only a chilled glass (or bottle) of wine will do. Red or white, with pasta at dinner or while watching a sad or romantic French movie, reading the blurred English subtitles through my stupid blubbery tears. It's the Malibu Rum in my hot cocoa that warms me while watching a snowstorm. The whiskey that dulls my senses when I feel I could lose my mind completely to depression, slowly becoming inebriated while listening to The Smiths or Tom Waits and typing out poem after drunken poem, channeling what feels at the time to be my inner Bukowski (but which is revealed to be a thirty-something's equivalent to teen angst once I'm sober). I've got an intimate relationship with alcohol, and I'm sure I've got new favorites out there yet to pass my lips, just waiting for the perfect situation to introduce itself.

UPDATE: DO NOT FUCK WITH WINDOWS 10, IT IS HORROR. 

PURE. FRUSTRATING. HORROR.

Drunk Epiphany

Sometimes I'm drunk and feel things that shouldn't be real. I'm okay with that.  I own a fragile human brain. Maybe it doesn't work the way it should. Maybe it does. I don't know what's real at the moment. I know I feel very good and feel things deeply. I know that once I read this sober, I will be bewildered and possibly embarrassed. Fuck sober Jenny. I know everything.  I'm completely powerless, but I know. I feel like I've tapped into some sort of collective consciousness. I don't want to sober up and laugh off my naivety.

vivid dreams
wake up
great morning
super imagination
relax
get bored
get irritated
sink down
hate everything
feel numb
fuck

NEW YEAR OPTIMISM

My world is so incredibly tiny. I normally stay within the same three towns, doing the same things, in the same places, with the same people. My mind is rarely forced to deal with new experiences. I don't know what to do about that. So I keep running on my wheel, in my cage, making half-assed plans for the day when I finally have the nerve to break out and explore. I don't know other people. I hardly know myself. I know my role, but that feels like a small part of a bigger picture. I'm untapped potential. I need to expand (not physically, I'm working on contracting in that regard).

It's January. I always get so optimistic this time of year. Like I will Change Everything. And I can, I totally have the power to change myself for the better. Eventually, it always feels like the top of the roller coaster. I am at a high point where I can see everything clearly. It's somewhere around the end of summer when I start to feel that this is just the same stupid loop every year and that I'll be climbing back up to that same high point every January, only to plummet into lows and be jerked around until it starts all over again. And then again. And then again.

I need to change my roller coaster. I want a new ride every year. I want more high points. I want water splashed on me and see wild animals and fire and lasers. Dammit.