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Recipe for Mania

  • 7 caffeinated beverages or approximately 88 oz. of sugar sweetness throughout the day, with three of them coming before 9 a.m.
  • Wake up at 3:30 a.m.
  • Know for sure this is going to be the longest day ever
  • Not be completely prepared for your workshops later that day
  • Have to be “on” for your workshops with the children
  • Have a mood disorder
  • Tell your friend to tell your former friend about your exploits
  • See your recovering aunt and boss her around
  • Optional: add in another caffeinated beverage

 

Recipe for sad-to-not-have-much-to-blog-about

  • Complete recipe for mania
  • Counteract with a “pinch” (your definition) of Benadryl
  • Wake up at 5:15 a.m., cold with a sore shoulder
  • Try desperately to go back to sleep, sleep off and on for 2 hours
  • Be groggy and un-alert
  • Be amused with your dating prospects but not feeling the strength to write a witty blog, though your dating prospects are witty and you know you are capable of creating such a blog and you know that your creating such a blog is inevitable
  • Consider that you are still in the throes of your recipe for mania and instead of not thinking enough, you are thinking too much. From one thing to the next. Typing bulleted points furiously
  • Wonder if you should end bulleted points with a period or not but then wonder if it’s that important, will readers really care? Probably not, right
  • Contemplate crackers and lunch methodically
  • “Bewitch” your nose intermittedly
  • Write down thoughts absurd and ridiculous and uninteresting because there’s nothing left to do and you have to get this out, out, out

Yesterday, I took lunch and went for a light jog/walk around the old neighborhood I used to live by. It was a beautiful spring day. Like the ones I remember when I lived there. It was strange to be back in the same place and remember the version of me that when up the hill and down the hill so many times. Giddy up the hill, giddy down the hill. Crying up the hill, crying down the hill.  Numb up, numb down. Angry. Grieving. Content. Up and down.

 

I felt a sense of satisfaction and unease. So I think I’ll go back. Then, I think it’s not a good idea. Is there something to be conquered in remembering, in going over territory I’ve been over a hundred times or am I in danger of remembering too much and reverting back to that weaker person? Fuck yes. Or. Fuck. Yes.

 

For now I think I’ll try to think nothing of it.

SOB with me

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