it never fails

except when it fails...

while you are thinking about that bit of profound wisdom that would have jack handey's jaw dropping if he had one, i shall continue along as if it never meant anything at all... never never and all that too... so i was all set to unpack this weekend and ramble on while doing it and the body lets in this bug that says sleep or die, mfker! and i ignore it for two days and finally decide that it is counter productive to ignore my own immune system, so i slept a hundred fifty three hours yesterday and feel sixty eight and a half percent better today, which means i did not die and i actually functioned at work for ten hours without my head exploding.... the bug appears to be on the run, but then, bugs hide out well in these human bodies, so we'll see...

it started on thursday, or maybe wednesday, or one of those days that end in day, and i felt the scratchy burn in the back of the throat that said the bug was in and looking to make itself at home... i was semi-expecting it because in the days just before or so i had inadvertently let an opening into my blood stream appear in the most inopportune of places, where the shit hits the bowl... yes, one of those h's they have a preparation for... such an event occasionally leads to a bacterial cold, usually in the head... gargling with antiseptice mouthwash chased the bugger from the throat, but then it took up residence in the sinuses and that means the body went into overdrive producing more musous and anti-body fluid than the head could hold and no amount of dripping from the nose was gonna relieve the pressure cuz the body knows, it's not just the heat, it's the pressure that turns coal into diamonds and bugs into head cold dead bugs... and sleep... sleep seems to help too...

so there i was, at death's door, and now i'm not...

i think... anyway, it never fails (another never fails) that when i come to blog for all you wonderful people and i find you have not been around for a few days or longer, as sensible and secure and witty and cavalier and confident and irreverent and la-dee-da as i am, i still hear a voice from somewhere in the back of my head asking did i do anything wrong? and that voice just keeps insisting that i must have done something to offend or upset or at least turn you away... silly as that sounds, that voice never fails... except, of course, when you pop up and i laugh at the poor little insecure voice, cuz then it failed in validating the doubts... see, it never fails, except when it fails...

speaking of horseradish, i've been eating house food for almost a week now, except for the whole foods meal and one other, i think, though i forget... mostly dried grains and nuts and some fruit, with rice milk... water and grapefruit juice too... though over the weekend i did have coffee and yoohoos... and one mediocre orange soda... i broke into my boxes of cans of soda left over from last year's all-night walkathon, which should be coming up soon, maybe... maybe not, i remember it being colder, like maybe december or january, i mean, we wore long sleeve clothes, even... anyway, i'm hungry... but the belly still looks up at me laughing... it's amazing how much hunger is emotional... i mean, it never fails that when i feel lonely or sad or disappointed, i want comfort food and feel hungry, even if i don't actually feel hungry at all (differentiating between the hunger feelings, that is)... lately i have not been giving into it as much, but then, it is monday and i might be getting a call from rasputin or precious any moment now...

and i am torn between wanting them to call and drag me out (kicking and screaming, of course) to some decadent meal (with even more decadent dessert) and between just munching on some more dried grains and nuts and fruits and rice milk... maybe tuna, since i've got cans of that in the house... all the emergency rations for the hurricanes are being consumed bit by bit... good thing, cuz they should be on the shelves too many years anyway... so how long has it been since i rambled on like this in real time about real time in real space about real space, aye?... seems thereal has quietly taken over the brief daily blog place (not that anybody noticed, nag nag nag, silly little voice) and this has become the new home for the babbler who's been aching to be let loose ever since we moved from behind the candoor, which, ironically, has about the same readership as this fine real time blog... not that you're the same people, though one or two of you are... the babbler still wanderers aimlessly around wondering why we haven't found his niche in the blgosphere cuz he think's it's just obvious that anyone truly in love with words would love him... but then, the babbler's ego balances out the little voice of doubt, ya know?...

so on the one hand you have insatiable ego babbler wandering aimlessly around this and that and the other thing as if everybody in the universe and beyond was just dying to know whatever might come forth from the fingers next cuz the most amazing wisdoms and words that will save humanity and all other species in the universe from emminent destruction are sprinkled amidst the irreverence as if genius can not just come forth and be spoken without all the silly distractions...

. .

and on the other hand you have the poor little lost boy who never got a sotry written about him like peter did, but has with some certainty decided that nobody will ever love him because he's just not lovable or worthy or anything and like randy newman's short people, got no reason to live except maybe to sing the poor-me song (so now we know why he does it), as if that changes anything...

meanwhile, between the wide-eyed wonder that cleaims to know it all and reassures me that everything is and will be alright even if i don't know it yet and the two extreme creatures of habit described above, there's rice milk dripping from my chin so i ought to stop lapping up the cereal and use one of the hands and this thing called a spoon for a few cuz i am obviously hungry and since i have not eaten since some time yesterday, i suppose eating might be a good idea... i would be happy to babble on about something other than food, but there's no naked go-go dancers around just now so food is the next best thing... hey, i've had a bag of nestle's crunch sitting open on the counter since i moved in here and i have not touched one, not one, so there lack-of-will-power fans, you lose...

speaking of losers, what's happening in sports and politics these days?... like i have no idea and i care only a little more... i check on college football on the web, but not much else... and i was just thinking as i drove home from work today how unattached to life i felt about ten years ago when i was wandering along the wilderness trails in upsate new york with no clock to punch and no obligations to anyone except to the promises i made that, in those wandering moments in the great outdoors, i could not keep because i didn't know where to keep them and so i'd wander aimlessly through my days living on the road just wondering about life and the point and whether i should turn left or right at the next fork... and the irony is i miss that freedom and enjoyed the moments of aimless wandering even though i didn't know where my next meal was coming from... and i remember one morning, after i got a car to sleep in, how a woman put a bag of groceries on the hood of my car and scurried off to her car before i could thank her...

of course there was that voice that wondered if the stuff was poisoned...

it wasn't... and i remember i kept one of the cans of something, iot's probably written about in my ancient journals, just to remind me that when you least expect it from out of the blue, someone just might care enough to show it, even if they don't want to show themselves... see, it never fails... but the thing we've got to understand about the little voice is that the poor thing is insatiable... i mean, you could be right here giving the greedy little sucker all of your best undivided attention for hours and hours and days and days and then, you look away for a moment cuz like, maybe a plane crashed outside the window and the baby is right back into singing his woe-is-me what did i do now blues... and the babbler will be laughing all the way home, even when he doesn't have one... maybe i just kept the can cuz i didn't have a can opener...

and that, my little fairy children of the woods and dales, is our tale for tonight... i hope you enjoyed yourself and will return again and agin, as you do every night, for a moment shared here is worth all the green M&Ms in the special xmas bags... of course we'd have to negotiate for the red ones...

nite nite :)