write a book rudy. seriously. you don't need capitals.
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just got my own bac!
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just got my own bac!
i hate everything right now. i can't find my muck boots and i really wanted to get out in the wet grass and take care of my trees. fuck! before teh day gets hot. but i found my chainsaw boots adn without the liners they'll do ok. but then i got to my trees and the fucking goats killed two of them, one each of my pears and peaches. now i have one each left and you really need two each to properly pollinate. i have the bees to go w that, but now i need two more trees. more money, more time, more projects. but at least i have enough of the formers to do the latter.
i'm smoking out of anger and i'm not even liking it.
to boot, my son is being a royal pain in the ass. mostly not, but i can't handle ANY right now. he always wants another game and then he needs help getting it started. i told him it's not my job to teach him video games.
i hate that i just asked my version of redhead's mechanic friend to help me make dump runs. but i really want to pull into my drive and not feel like the white trash that i'm not.
i was accused in group therapy long ago that i make it impossible for anyone to respond because of my summative statements that sound like closing remarks of a lawyer to a jury. well, here's my version of that for this moment in time, in my usual annoying optimistic tenor...
i am still in the glow from last evening. i couldn't find my boots cause i'm getting organized and i probably just put them in what seemed a logical place at the time. so i don't know where that is yet! at least i can use my coat closet and find my caps. (but i can't find my visor!)
but now my son yells at me cause he dropped the ipod on my tea (but it din't break and tea didn't spill). i wish he would never yell at me.
eck. i can't do this right now. i am not feeling operative as a lawyer i feel sour as a pickled plum.
i'll check back in when i can report a list of things accomplished, may it be long and pre-noon.
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just got my own bac!
I just wanted to point out that this lasts. what you're feeling. less stoned, less of the other stuff, se related. but the feeling lasts. you don't actually have to do it ALL now. not that it's not fun trying! carry on...
I'm loving every minute of it. You do write slendiferously.
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just got my own bac!
thanks, ne, and thanks everyone here who gives me hope to carry on.
murph said it in typical eloquent style that a super-high is oft followed by a low low. that's clearly what i'm experiencing right now. i am annoyed by my past two days' giddy happy feelings. they seem stupid and naive of me. well, not really. i'm just being a major grump. and i must get this childcare thing worked out; i can't enjoy my summer if i'm constantly fighting over video games and running after his every whim (which i don't, but it feels like i do). i'm going to schedule in a whole bunch of boys to play with g (my son) so i can sit down and sink down into some good soft mud. or garden. or clean. or whatever the fuck i want to do. nap.
the se's are abating ever so slightly, now on day 3 of 200. and i'm also annoyed that i don't want to drink. i keep telling myself to just go buy some ale already and chug a lug, but that holds no appeal whatsoever. it's great, that, but it's also a little confusing not to have anything to escape into. even the weed doesn't do much for me except maybe replace the high i'm not much getting from the bac anymore.
so there you have it. i've gone through all of this and today, 5th day of indifference, i can't celebrate it anymore. god no, i'm not going to flush it all and get off the bac just to go back to that hell-style living. fuck that as much as the al. fuck it fuck it fuck it fuck it. wouldn't trade this version of indifference for all the people in china. but would love to sit down and sink down into some other kind of eternal bliss.
i guess that's what sex is for. and running (which i did for the first time the other day in a couple of months since my fiasco of a trapeze experience in early bac days on half a pint of vodka -not much for me, then- and it felt like bliss). and eating and sleeping and fucking and cooking out and gardening and all of that other stuff that made me giddy.
so i shall try to snap out of this funk of a doodle and stop with the pity party tho it feels kinda good. i shall line some things up and enjoy my summer. even if it kills me, which it won't, but alcohol surely would at some point.
so there, closing statement, for this round.
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just got my own bac!
:H
(i'm allowed to laugh, now, right? i'll wait a couple of hours/days if you want.)
yes, yes. support, support, ad infinitum.
sounds to me like you are having a terrible, rotten, no good, v.b.d. having just had one of those i can almost sympathize. wish i could sit with you for your pity party. sadly the only way i know how to have a good one is over beverages that kick with more than caffeine. and nicotine is the only thing i smoke and that shit has got to go. my poor cells.
one of my favorite authors became my favorite author when i read, "I could almost resent the ocean if I tried." i later found out that she's one of us and also on the other side of the chasm. i knew that, though, just from that sentence. i luuuuuuv her. you too!
:H
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just got my own bac!
i know that many would die for my experience of bac (rather, not die), and i know that i am truly blessed. but that doesn't make these feelings of angst any less visceral.
me to my son while doing a puzzle: -work with what works.
i'm letting my own words sink in for myself and seeing what i can come up with.
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just got my own bac!
yeah, you can laugh, ne. i am starting to. after i wrote that post -two above- i felt a catharsis. my spirit lifted. i defecated (tmi), took a shower, shaved my legs, put on makeup, cancelled acupuncture, promised to take my son to the playground, bought some time by letting him photocopy his art on the printer we just got hooked up (yes, by someone else). so now i'm off to use my purchase (time) on the patio with a smoke, to return in a sec w my cig and tell you all about my cells and how they're feeling.
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just got my own bac!
i'm smoking lots. a pack might not last me 3 days after all. my tongue still hurts (but the roof of my mouth doesn't). i only have one snus left. sometimes i smoke w one in my mouth. i'm ageing (but my face isn't so red). i wanna run cause that will help get me in touch w my lungs, so i'll get that childcare. where's his fucking father?! (oh yeah, he'll be w dad for three days this weekend!) i want to quit but apparently i can't be bothered. here's where that pat response comes in handy: one thing at a time.
fuck acupuncture.
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just got my own bac!
RudyB;1139058 wrote:
i guess that's what sex is for. and running (which i did for the first time the other day in a couple of months since my fiasco of a trapeze experience in early bac days on half a pint of vodka -not much for me, then- and it felt like bliss). and eating and sleeping and fucking and cooking out and gardening and all of that other stuff that made me giddy.
.
Clearly you are sex deficient.
The unexamined life is not worth living
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just got my own bac!
Pretty sure that Al Gore didn't say that. Also pretty sure you already said that. While that might be a solution for some things, at some point, and may help clear the (what?)... hmmm. take the edge off, pretty sure it doesn't solve all things. though maybe some. just sayin
rubydear. why the angst? i am really not getting it. 'splain please
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