Circling the sleeping dog like mad.
I think I saw his eye open a little and I poked him.
Just a little.
It is all gray out and I’ve slept all I can sleep which is a lot and sleep is a depressant did you know that?
And I feel sad and lost and alone and I am listening to sad romantic rock from the seventies and it is not helping.
But I cannot stop listening to sad seventies rock songs. And pretending those love struck singers are singing about me.
I AM LOST! LOST WITHOUT YOU LORI! BABY COME BACK! ANY KINDA FOOL COULD SEE. i NEED YOU BABY COME BACK!
But sorry fellas, I ain’t got time for nothin’ serious. I am very busy PRETENDING.
Pretending is way better than a real boyfriend. I have the BEST imaginary relationships. Sometimes I employ real people in them, and that’s when the trouble starts for me.
I get real people, and by people I mean MEN, involved and then I act crazy, I was from a seventies rock song.
Of course, I only attract crazies too. So you add crazy to crazy you get more crazy. Crazy times crazy equals crazy to the max. And I kinda enjoy that. My predicament is easy to track.
Although I’ve had lots of lovely, uncrazy relationships. But they make me crazy.
Now I just crave the crazy like a drug.
I also crave drugs. Like a lot and it is starting to get in the way.
Like I’m not supposed to have Grain Belt Premium for breakfast right? How about Miller High Life?
I know it’s time to grow up now. If I want what I want and that is a lot, it’s time to actually write something. It’s time to draw. It’s time to get a job I enjoy. It’s time to exploit my numerous talents for fat stacks of cash.
Now it’s just Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday repeat. Forever and ever.
Work work work.