This is going to make me sound like a weirdo, but I find the body aches and fever kind of relaxing while I’m ill. I’m kind of a tightly wound person, so when I become the brand of sick where I can’t do anything but lie down, its almost like a vacation. More’s the better if I become so shackled to the bed with fever and sweats that my mind starts to eat itself. There are people the world over that pay money for that kind of sensation, and occasionally, I get it for free. Nothing compares to that eldritch dread the sneaks up on you when you’re that sick.
I awoke this morning at 4:45 to what sounded like someone rewinding a video tape at full volume outside my window. I don’t know if it was squirrels, a pigeon protecting her young, or the swinging sounds of an amateur DJ. Regardless, I’m up and performing my morning ritual of trying to keep my cat off of my keyboard while I type this. My haggard appearance is of no bother to his satin-black face and gold-ringed eyes. He just wants to cuddle, and if he can keep me from my current task, more’s the better.
In my darker and more desperate moments I contemplate doing pornography. Not acting in it of course, but writing and directing. I already have a great adult film name picked out. Whitey Bulger. You know, after the famous Boston gangster*. Choosing that name might explain why my ideas have trouble catching on. I have yet to come up with a concept that I didn’t have to explain as majority of listeners stare at me dead-eyed. Anyway, I could never do it, because I don’t know how I would tell people about work without lying or staring at the floor and shuffling my feet.
My taxes are done and I will likely finish the new episode of Victorian Cut-out Theatre this weekend. My father will be on his way for a visit tomorrow afternoon and right now, I’m so relaxed that I almost don’t care that I was recently the victim of credit card fraud…almost.
As I’ve mentioned at the end of this week’s episode of Walker’s Talkers, I now have a Patreon page/campaign. Which means that if you like my work and want to help me support it, you can now give a monthly pledge. I’m already offering some neat rewards and will be offering more in the future (wink). So if you like what I do, and want to see it get better, please consider donating to my campaign, which you can visit by clicking HERE.
If I ever become a millionaire, I won’t spend money on an expensive foreign car, nor a large and empty house. I will however, spend an inordinate mount of money on cheese. I have a fondness for weird and expensive cheeses. I’m telling you this because I had to punish my cat yesterday for hopping on the counter and getting into a wedge of applewood smoked cheddar. This was clearly cause for anger, because cats should never be allowed to traverse “eating surfaces”, let alone steal food that isn’t theirs.
I am awake typing this at 3:35 AM.
As a Western Coloradan, I’m used to our winters lasting until April, leaving us stubbornly like a drunk being ejected from a party. In Colorado we don’t have spring, we have “mud season” and to continue the metaphor even further, it really is like the aforementioned drunk leaving your house in disarray. I think we're at the stage in winter where everyone is in the throws of depression. Almost everyone I meet, from my manual labor coworkers to my artist friends is hollow-eyed and worn down.