Monday, April 02, 2012


Oh, the new digestive enzymes: more pain. Thank you, digestive enzymes, for this pain. I want to go outside, but truthfully I'm too tired. I want to take a shower, but I'm afraid of drying out my skin. Today is a day of laundry: no detectable scent in the machine, so I'm trying to wash as much as possible, in small loads because otherwise the dryer takes hours, literally hours. The sun is coming in and out, teasing me and my headache. I wonder if this headache is caused by the mustiness in this apartment, mildew I can sense when it's moist out. Of course, it's always moist out.

Walking back in from the laundromat no not the laundromat just the laundry in the basement, I look up at a puffy white cloud floating joyously through blue sky: I should be out there, I mean I am out there, but then I'm back inside, wondering about this headache, wondering about outside but too tired. Maybe a shower will help, should I take a shower? Somewhere there's another world where all of this isn't so overwhelming, where I can go outside and it will help. Or, where I don't need to go outside for it to help, whatever it is, help me.

Yes, I took the higher dose of the homeopathic remedy when I got up this morning. It seemed to help. But now maybe that's what's making me catatonic. Last night was a terrible night of sleep, but I had really interesting dreams at the end, which now of course I can't remember. Before the interesting dreams, I wrote this amazing story, I mean in bed in the middle of the night when I was trying to sleep, and now of course I can't remember that either. Maybe the story was part of the dreams. I know you want to think that the dreams were part of the story.

I did write something down from a dream a few days ago, when I woke up singing the Beatles’ “Eight Days a Week ” – I luh-uh-uh-uh-uhuhve you. That was fun. But where is the piece of paper? I thought it was in one of these notebooks, but where exactly? Something about Phyllis Diller's five rules of health, but what were the rules? Back in the dream, another dream, and out here I wish I could stop eating whenever the bloating started, it can't be helping me to eat while my guts are pushing outward, hurting me, but what if I'm still hungry? Should I go outside, or get in the shower? One leads to the other, or actually that's not true -- getting in the shower will lead to going outside, but going outside will not lead to getting in the shower. I mean not tonight.

But why would I take a shower when all I want to do is go to bed? Maybe so that I can do something else? If I close my eyes, I can hear the sound of the refrigerator, planes flying overhead, the twitching of the computer or what is that, you can't really call it twitching, not movement but this sound internally, someone might call that breathing but I will not. What else can I hear? Someone's music. Church bells -- this church does have really pretty bells, elaborate. The computer is getting louder, softer again, louder, softer. There’s the bigger noise, that one's more like a hum, the cooling fan or something like that. There’s a car. Another plane. I don't really have the energy to go on a walk, or to take a shower.


Nick said...

EIGHT DAYS A WEEK! Is not enough to show I care!

Hold me, love me! Hold me, love me!

mattilda bernstein sycamore said...

Eight days a wee-ee-eek :)