Right now, it feels like a troll clawed his way through my eyes, trudged with dirty feet to the very top of my brain, and then took a nasty shit. Right now, I am not feeling 100%. Or maybe that is a 100% for me these days. I would hope that it is not.
I woke up at four this morning. I don’t remember what I was dreaming, but I’m pretty sure it had something to do with trailer houses and 4-H. Don’t ask me why—I was never in 4-H, and although I have plenty of trailer
trash house experience, not much of it is worth dreaming about. But whatever, right? I have a hard enough time keeping my brain under control when I’m awake and somewhat in charge. When I’m asleep, I’m lucky that it doesn’t climb out of my bean and shiv me in the kidneys.
I maybe could have gone back to sleep, if I had really tried, but sometimes, it just isn’t worth it. I had to pee, kind of, and I was pretty thirsty. Plus, I had a lot of school work to do.
So I climbed out of bed, dumped in some eye drops, took my pee, and then gulped some water. I fumbled out some vitamins, and considered the left-over coffee in the pot. I couldn’t remember making it. Since I’m the only one in my house that drinks coffee, if I can’t remember when it was made, it probably isn’t safe to drink. I sniffed it, just in case. Nope—not good.
I drank some more water and made my way over to my computer. My feet were a little chilly, and just as I looked around for my house shoes, I stepped on one and almost brained myself on the edge of my computer desk. I made a quick recovery, though—didn’t even spill any water, ‘cause that’s how pimp I am—and fired up Photoshop.
While I waited for it to do its “initializing” thing, I dumped out my various allergy medication, and began knocking them back. I noticed a Shiner Bock cap on my bulletin board and wondered how long it has been there. I took it down and wrote a number 3 on it, then put it back. No reason, really—just screwing with my future self. Because I know at some point, I’ll see that cap again, and go, “Hey, what’s this? There’s a number 3 written on here. Why?” Although since I’ve now written about it, I’ll probably remember, thus ruining the trick.
At 4:22, Photoshop was up and running. I finally stepped away from the computer at 6:48 this evening. I stopped briefly to make coffee, but aside from that, I spent the day doing school work.
This almost sounds like an accomplishment until I look back over the stuff I have produced. I’m happy with the first design. From there, it kind of goes down hill. There’s some acceptable stuff mixed in there, but if you gathered it all up and looked at it, there’s no way you’d think, “Yep, I bet this took about…14 hours to do.”
So I’m a little disappointed with myself. Because that means I have to spend tomorrow doing this crap, too. And I wanted to do other things tomorrow. I wanted to fly a kite, and pet a puppy, and I wanted smell fresh flowers and dance with the wind.
Or maybe I just wanted to look at porn. I’ll have to check my planner.
You know what I’m pretty sure I won’t see in my planner? “Ray—today, you are looking forward to doing school stuff!”
Because I am not looking forward to it, in case I forgot to mention that.
I don’t know if you’ve noticed it—my money says no—but I’ve been trucking along this month, writing something in each section. What do you mean, “What’s a section?”
A section! Over there on the side! The Rants, Short Stories, Whiskey Pages, all that. What did you think the little pictures were all about, man? Sheesh.
Anyway, I decided that since it’s our fifth birthday—a very big deal, I assure you—I would try to write something for each section. I even updated the photo gallery. I’m not quite there, but I’m getting close.
Sadly, this was supposed to be a post for the Whiskey Pages, but I got all caught up in writing, and forgot to drink. Easily remedied, though.
So long, kids, I’ve got some shots to drink.