Out of Alignment

Usually, when I go see a jolly good double feature with the Mighty G, that makes everything right in the world. Somehow, as the credits roll, the planets realign and as I emerge from the theater, there is a smile on my face and a bounce in my step. I am ready to take some hits, have some triumphs, and start the whole process over again.

But this time, even though the company was top-notch and the movies were decent, my head still hurts. My eyes are dry. My underwear keeps riding up. I can't seem to clean my room, even though the right lighting is on and the Sirius is bumpin'. I just don't feel so good.

The week has been full of fuck-ups on my part. I am not getting anything done, and if there's anything that kills the HellCat, it's spinning wheels. Somehow, I feel less muscular and less talented and less anything. I feel lesser. Why is that? A sudden hormonal change? An adrenal crash, or perhaps some thyroidal woes might send this fragile one into a tailspin, maybe that's it.

I had a bad dream last night. I dreamt that my old friends from Denver were having a reunion party (which they actually are, in real life). My pal's Land Cruiser pulled up to the curb of my Denver house, as it has so many times before. I watched through the open blinds of my childhood bedroom as my friends fell out of the car, laughing and yelling. I answered the door, and everyone was drunk and crazy, which immediately turned me off. I hate playing catch-up to the rest of the already-pissed crowd; it never fails to make me turn on my heel and leave an event. When everyone is shitfaced but me? That's a lot to live up to, I'd rather watch a movie.

Anyway, I tell them to get into the car before my born-again Christian parents see them and forbid me to leave the house. They comply, and as I go to my room to give myself the once-over, I realize that I'm in my pajammy-jammers and I need to change. So, I throw on some jeans, but everything else I put on doesn't fit. Not in an "I've gotten fat" way--the clothes are missing armholes or my head won't fit through the neck of the shirt. Eventually, I find something that is free of defects. I turn around and look through my bedroom window again to see that the Land Cruiser is gone.

They left me behind.

And then I heard the tune of "The Entertainer" come from the sky, since my phone alarm went off. I woke up depressed.

That kind of describes my week. I feel like nothing is really working the way I want it to, and when I finally manage to make something happen, it's too late anyway.

bollocks. g