Tuesday Afternoon (Bastille Day)

Vive la France, bien sur. Mid summer, tad windy, kinda cold, there is an electric feeling in the air... wham! Things are a tad too bright, too colorful, nature at full bloom, things will soon turn the other way... wilt, gray, decay. Tuesday 3:33 pm, things are out of sorts, routine broken... hoping for a thunderstorm, something to settle the static in the air. Try I dare you to focus.

To rant randomely.

To prattle away with words. Spin them around, throw them out there, no matter their cause or effect.

What's on my mind? Cigarettes, pretty much every waking second, yes, oh and forget about sleeping, I roll, I scratch, I ache. It sucks.

Anything else? Whiny children driving me a bit daft. No escape.

Bored of social media. A lot of talk about not a much at all.

Fuck these cravings, fuck this mood I am in. Yes if I were to give in, just a quick fag, whammo, improved mood. But, no, fight it off. Be strong.

Drink coffee, type through it. Focus? Not with how this feels. A type and run. Poof!

There dear old blog. A random rant, spurred on by want for smoke, for want of relief. More, later, maybe.

About Fatigue

Three nights on a couch. Early to rise, kids, and school, and breakfast, and good mornings, and have a good days. A combined oh maybe 15 hours sleep in the last 72 hours, lets just say I am seeing spots, I am hummingbird-like, I hum and I buzz. Nearly impossible to focus, I am distracted by the smallest things. Every movement draws my eye, there is nothing profound to see, its all a blur, a brief stare at this or that, she or he.

I have been on the run, I am never really here or there. I am stuck in the fuzzy middle, I am tired, I need to exhale, to lie down, to stop. I need to be here, and yet tomorrow I am back there.

The Ride to a Cabin

Imagine a rural highway, think if it was filled to the brim with raccoons, deer, and mad stray dogs. Then imagine that a car on this rural highway is filled with 3 city folks, and a fella that is not from
the area at all. Imagine still that these four travelers are hopelessly lost (sorta). My God then think what it would be like if the rolling, animal filled hills and valleys of this rural road failed to yield any
cell phone signal and the four are 3 urbanites and a fella that is lost altogether, egad the humanity of it all. A hellish trip right? Well it had its moments to be sure, but in retrospect it was the perfect way to start a night of partying in a country cabin. Really isn't that prototypically how most great nights in the woods start? There needs to be a few tense moments, say like almost hitting a huge stray dog (or was it a black panther?? long story) to get the adrenalin spiked to a point where upon safe arrival everyone wants to howl at the moon. Huge props, and a million hugs to my girl that got us there in one piece.

Welcome sounds..

I am a bit of an audiophobe, I do not like loud, or grating noises. The sound of a vacuum makes me run from a room. I generally feel the same way about lawn mowers and whipper snippers, but not today, no, today the sound of lawn work is a welcome racket, it means that spring has officially sprung, that summer in all its warm and sunny glory is just around the corner. YAY, thats pretty much all a fella can say.

Blames it on the rain

Its a drain,
I can feel the atmospheric pressure in my nasal passages. My energy is drained. I am close to migraine. Maybe its the fluorescent lights, maybe its the musak, maybe its the Mozza Burger, probably its the coffee. Oh the coffee I consumed today. Fingers crossed that there is some sun tomorrow, this fella has to hit the streets, roam around, get his face out there, become a local celebrity in the town his birth. Small town Nova Scotia is easy, big town New Brunswick might be more of a challenge. For now I sit, I wait, I neurotically stare at the cell phone, wish, upon wish, that I could mentally manipulate time and space......

Sitting in the mall.....

People watching, it rains outside. Supposed to be job searching, more apt to be web surfing. Yes, I have peeked, dipped a few toes in the water. Hard to find motivation on a rainy old day. People walk by, the odd old fart stands behind me stares in dumb awe at my computer screen. A quasi-wino asks me to explain to him the comings, goings, and inner workings of wifi technology, I answer as best I can. I am not sure how it works, I simply know that it does. Always the driver, never the mechanic, I hate getting my hands dirty. Ramble on I will, the distraction of the mall makes it hard to write in proper sentences, the flow for thought to screen constantly disrupted by each passing consumer. I should be looking for work, was that not the plan of attack today, was that not why I came downtown??? Or was it because she wanted me to come for the ride? The job search just a suggestion, a thing to kill the hours. What do I do but write, think about what I should do, and what I might.