The Crawford

9 Jan

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A love on Facebook posted this like yesterday.

…I laughed my ass off, commenced with the rest of my busy workday, mid tech week, and then went home and Opened a show.

…And then I got up this morning after my first solid sleep in four days, after a not-at-all bad performance, feeling like an emo mess.

…The kind of sad that you can’t express, without rhyme or reason or substantial circumstance…

…But then Cecil texted: “Breakfast?” And I’m all like, “Yes! That’ll fix it! Bring me Starbucks and I’ll love you even more than I already do…!”

…And she did. And I did. And she went on about her day, and I sat with my empty cardboard Starbucks cup, staring at the still present Christmas tree across the room.

“I should fix that,” I thought.

…And where before,  what with a show going up and all, I had felt I had a “pass” at letting it ride this long, I was still tired. Still ambiguously sad. Still in pajamas, and not able to come to terms with what I “should” be doing, versus just sitting there.

…So I went to the Facebooks to post about it…like you do…and everyone was all, “No, yeah, my trees still up too…” So you’d think this would help. But it didn’t. So I was sad, and tired and striking Christmas.

…And then mom texted and was all, “Hey, what about more coffee, and a walk?”

…And I thought, “Yeah, that’ll fix it!”

…So we took one. And it was caffeinated and fresh, and green, but it didn’t.

…So I said, “I’m in a really bad, sad mood, I need to go home, and sleep or something.”

…And we went through a drive-thru on the way, and I’m all like, “A strawberry milkshake! That’ll fix it!”

…So I got one. But it didn’t.

…Which bring us to an exhausting conclusion of now: where I’m back in pajamas again, sitting on the couch, knowing that I’ve got this whole show to do in a few hours, which requires me to have my shit together…

…And what comes next is my last resort: A long-ass, very hot shower, where I will sob uncontrollably until there is nothing left.

…Which will fix it!

…Because it fucking HAS to.

…Because Jameson doesn’t make a PMS pill, and I’ve got some shit to do.

Today, girlness can kiss my ass.

~D

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