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Duplicity, Harpies, and Mia pissing
Sunday, Oct. 14, 2001 @ 8:54 a.m.

I know something is up . . .

Little clues are whispering of turmoil all around me.

The fact that Dune has been playing on a nearly continuous loop in the living room.

The fact that Mia is sooooooooo desperate to get my attention, that she felt the need to piss in the middle of my bed.

[Maybe it was the fact that I had to go to work yesterday, Saturdays are usually, at least partially, her day]

The fact that I am, and have been a one nostril, nostral, nostrel breather for the last few days.

The feeling that something is just not quiet right within me lately.

That void, the weight on the diaphragm of my breath, although only the size of a pin prick, has just kind of been hanging out their these last few days, as in wait of the most opportune time to rise up and consume my consciousness.

And I can't help thinking that it is all because I have not been eating right. That maybe simple carbohydrates really do fuck with me and my emotions.

I have to get back on the sugar busters band wagon.

I have to go rollerblading again.

And again.

And yet again.

Until it is a habit.

A daily excursion into exercise.

I have to tell them, I love you guys, but FUCK off at work.

I WON"T be on anymore committees.

I mean good lord, I became a teacher to teach, not to be on a committee. I want my little class room to become a womb for me, and all of the political bullshit of the school district can just steer clear of me please.

And I've been blaming it on October. That dreaded month that just seems to be the MOST stressful to me as a teacher.

I've been calming the new teachers fears. Letting them know "It's just October, just get through October and you will be ok. It's all down hill from there. You can do it.". And I finish my short little monologue with an Oscar winning smile.

But I don't want to give October this power, I don't want it to become some Harpy, or Medusa, to be feared from year to year. [I mustn't enable it so]

And I'm craving sleep. Yet I'm not sleepy. I mean I'm craving a true sleep through the night. No more waking up to strange snippets of dreams, that aren't dreams. More like still photo's of cryptic scenes that morf into otherness at the whim of a thought, almost as if they have always already been a glimpse of what they have become.

And I'm grinding my jaw again.

I can feel it. That gnawing headache in the duplicity of my temples. From the moment I woke yesterday till the moment I slept yesterday. At first fearing I had a sinus migraine coming on, then realizing that familiar burning ache in the fulcrum of my jaw that extends up to the temples. Ignoring it all day, until finally hours later my consciousness would no longer allow me that luxury. Wishing I had a chiropractor here, the only thing that has EVER offered any relief to this malady.

But I'm stopping.

My Java [Sumatran, actually for I'm convinced they grow the best coffee] is infusing itself deep within me. My myelin sheaths are feeling soothed, maybe it's a natural reuptake inhibitor. Hmm interesting. It's time to end this rant.

It's time for me to go rollerblade around a bit.

To get this day started.

To force that blemish on my diaphragm into a space the size of a hydrogen atom, or perhaps take a Buddhist outlook and contemplate it's impermanence.

Loving,

hugging,

Thinking of you, and you, you, and you, and you. You know who you are. My real life and I.M. friends.

My Partners of the Pen.

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