Agony ....... And Much Else
Agony. Agony, I tell you. I have never moaned or screamed while driving or for such an extended period of time.
At least it was the second night I had forgotten to take my Lexapro. So it was the alcohol screwing me up not the medication.
Right?
At dinner my friend brought a bottle of plum wine to the BYOB sushi bar. I think I had let's say three tiny sake glasses worth of the plum wine.
Later at the bar I had the following:
-- 2 Coronas
-- A mixed shot
-- Two "slippery nipple" type shots, some buttery-creamy based alcohol in a test tube
Let's also consider the fact that I'm 5'6", 167#, and for probably the last 12 months, have been forced (by the medication) to be a teetotaler. When I've had opportunity to drink I've been limited to two of whatever and that's all. So I'm not used to drinking the above amount between 10:00 PM and 1:00 AM of late. Combine that with being awake since 7:00 AM (okay, I had a nap, I admit it) and driving up to Quincy Adams, taking the T into Boston, walking around with the bag full of merchandise I thought I'd want to have with me to prove what I bought when I was overcharged by $12 on Thursday, walking around more, purchasing a bag full of goods at Trader Joe's and walking around even more with now two bags of goods, then T-ing back to Quincy Adams, driving home, deciding to take 295 which is sounding like a bad idea, because as I was driving towards route 37 in a downpour I got into a groove and got the car drenched, and was refusing to be scared by such a thing. Thanks, Bob's Discount Furniture. I'll remember to spray you next time I see you. By 1:45 my bladder was full and the seal had been broken, and I was desperate to stop the buzz and go night-night.
Once I got inside my own car pain took over. If I had had any sense a) I would have waited to use the toilet stall at Mirabar, b) I would have pulled over to the side of anywhere, gotten out and tried to have a slash (but knowing me that would have been fruitless too, as was my attempt to go standing up in a full bathroom), or c) found a bathroom somewhere between my car's resting place and home. Instead I moaned, screamed, bellowed, disobeyed the speed limit, said out loud to myself "I'm going to have an accident," (with the CAR, mind you, not my BLADDER) didn't, but probably ran a red light, finally teared up for the first time in months thanks to the pain, and hobbled bent over in pain and holding it from the car up the stairs to my apartment, where of course I'd been holding it so long it was a small difficulty now opening that vessel up. It was not pretty. But at least once I had pissed I felt so much better.
And then, since I'm such a lightweight, I had enough of a hangover this morning that there was no way I was getting to the gym.
Then when my friend called me today to see how I was, between the not being medicated for 48 hours or so and his spouting statements that I simply had no response to ("Okay. And?"), or were unintelligable, I'm just nonplussed.
I have the irritated sneer of Jughead right now without the pencil nose. I just don't have anything interesting to offer or say. Often. Of course there are moments when I have something to say, when I'm quick enough to comprehend what has been said, realize I have an opinion or knowledge that will hold water in the court of public opinion, and there's enough of a momentary pause for me to offer it, rather than be steamrolled by some other asshole opening his mouth.
That, sir, is why I don't say much. [deleted] you!
This of course is right in the middle of my very slowly-progressing zeroing in on figuring out what I can say, what I cannot say, what I should say, and how much I should care or not care about what people think about what I say.
"Oh, we're all just playing it by ear, every one of us," I can hear you saying.
Yeah, sure, buddy, but you've got a more intact rulebook. Somebody ripped 90% of the pages out of mine.
Seriously, I am simply less developed socially than most of the people I meet and there's no getting around it. That is why all of you people irritate me. It's just my own fault.
Labels: Originally published
... Scribbled by Bill T ... 8/14/2004 09:14:00 PM ... 
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