Today is another Wednesday, two Wednesdays from then and I am still sick. It's fantastic. You should try this. Sick on Christmas. Sick on New Year's. Sick today, on my twenty-first birthday. But I did get better for a day or two somewhere in the middle of all of that. New Year's was a bust anyway.
I was watching Forensic Files all night, in a particularly sickened state, even for these past two weeks. I had a nicotine patch on my shoulder, because contrary to popular belief, I was a smoker for a brief period that I do not regret for three reasons:
1. I've kicked that shit for nearly two weeks now.
2. It was easy to kick that shit.
3. I learned a lot about addiction that I could not have grasped before. Something that has already come into play in my Ribcage stories.
The nicotine patches suggest that you remove them before sleep only if you are subject to "vivid dreams". Well, let me say that I am notorious for never dreaming. And don't give me that shit about everybody dreaming or I'll just rephrase that to never remembering my dreams upon awakening.
These past two weeks have been an amazing experience. These dreams are insane. I can't believe that the box was right. I'm talking, New Year's Eve, I was so sick that I shut Forensic Files off and passed out on the couch, only to dream of watching an entire Forensic Files episode, narration and all. Only this episode took place IN my apartment building, so it was quite frightening. When the episode ended, I left the apartment to do some further investigating and things blew into a full-blown blockbuster suspense thriller from there.
So that's how I spent New Year's Eve. Losing my mind.
Elise was imprisoned by Disney until two in the morning, which was probably the most fucked up thing they've done there. Last minute, they decided to just stay open past their usual NINE PM closing time. I'm sure it was Elise's co-workers that were really pissed, since everyone had to stay past Orlando's last call on New Year's Eve. I'd recorded the New Year's show in the DVR, but by the time Elise came home, we were just starving.
Last night, I went to Wal-Mart after midnight to buy my first alcohol to celebrate, but the Blue Nun wine wasn't jiving with my itchy throat. I drank one glass. That's the shit about this cold right now. I'm just coughing a lot. I've entered the coughing phase. But Blue Nun is good wine... tastes a lot like the Shmitte Sohne Riesling Wal-Mart and I like so much. I swear to God (who I'll get to in a minute) that Wal-Mart stocks 500 bottles of Shmitte Sohne Riesling. The same variety, the same blue bottle... it's one third of their entire wine section. (Note: Wal-Mart wine shopping is something I only did last night because it was after midnight, and I needed stronger cold medicine.)
In the soda aisle, Elise and I were stopped by a middle-aged Japanese woman who asked if we were Christians. I said, "Yes," because I felt like making such a slight woman happy. And she was happy! But it didn't stop her from telling her story. About how she was a Buddhist until seven years ago she almost died and she saw hell and she saw demons and she saw nightmares and that that was when she found Jesus. She said that she was glad that we had also found Jesus, glad because now, "Angels will party over your bodies."
Checking out with my wine and medicine and final box of nicotine patches, I told the cashier who was IDing me that I had just turned 21 an hour earlier and she wished me a happy birthday. Then she pointed to the Shmitte Sohne and said, "This one is very, very good."
I said, "I know! I shouldn't know, but I know."
She started laughing and said something about how I'd just turned twenty-one.
Then I said, "Well, it's been a very long hour."
I am hoping to have a new story later. I am also supposed to go to dinner for my birthday. And then, who knows which of my friends will be here. (You're invited.)
Leave a comment