Exhausting sleep, or, Making a deal with eldritch terrors

I woke up this morning exhausted. The couch had broke before Christmas, and the call from the repair man at 6:45 was not welcome. I had dreamed deeply all night long.

A. and I were in an old house. It had two stories. Huge. Cursed. Victorian. A mad old woman owned the place. A. and I were to look after it for her while she was away on unknown business.

Anxiety grew steadily while we were there. The house was well lit but filthy. No monsters appeared but the expectation that they would at any moment was constant. I believed that numerous violent and terrible acts had happened within the house. We decided to destroy the house.

Upstairs we smashed out windows. We emptied clothes out of closets and drawers. The plan was to set fire to the house before midnight, when something terrible would happen. It would look like an accident.

Voices could be heard coming from downstairs. Two of the mad woman's friends had showed up, and my mad aunt as well. I was paniced. How could we get rid of them without making them suspicious?

Night had fallen. Now outside of the house and some ways away, large logs had been set on fire within a fenced off area that was saturated with evil. The smoldering fire was slow to catch. Two dimensional humanoid forms would resolve out of the smoke and ash, slowly gain substance in three dimensions and then collapse back into the burning wood. There were three of them. All naked and grey. They each had the tentacled, octopus like head of Cthulhu.

Throwing large logs onto the fire, I promised to make the fire larger and free them if they would destroy the house. I would do this only if they would promise to keep my family safe, free from harm, and free from terror. They laughed. They spoke and told me that they had to be true to their nature and might be able to give us safety, but that was all.

The wind and darkness grew in intensity. A chorus of low rumbling laughter and screaming began to build. The forms continued to fail to materialize completely, but I had already decided to accept the deal if it meant the house would be detroyed. Before I could speak my acceptance I woke up when A.'s phone rang.

The repairman would be arriving soon.

Shooting zombies makes for thirsty work, or, Revenge of the Lemonheads

Last night A. made some delicious Chinese vermicelli with spicy sauteed beef and celery. The cumin seed she used in the saute was especially nice. Stuffed myself on dinner and then went into our backyard to cut some wood for a fire. When my parents last visited my father trimmed off quite a few dead limbs from one of our trees. Those limbs have been sitting behind our shed since then. The other day our neighbor gtold us that rats might take to living under the stacked limbs. I Thought I might as well use the limbs as fuel for the fire and save a few dollars, while also denying any rats a place to live.

My dog came out with me. She sat off a ways, scared of the hand saw and logs I was cutting. Once finished with the work we played the chasing game. She'll run past me while I try to catch her. I never do and I rarely ever try. I don't have to run much, just make a move towards her and let her tear around the yard. She finished running around and we went inside where I built a fire. The ashes in the fireplace need to be cleaned out. The smell of smoke makes me think that there is a leak in the flue somewhere.

Washed the dishes. Signed the x-mas cards A. had made. Put in Left 4 Dead and shot zombies with A. and J., J. playing over Xbox live. A. had bought some Lemondrop mix earlier in the evening and we were drinking that mixed with equal parts vodka, then topped off with plain soda water. Nothing remarkable about this drink. It tasted like the outside of Lemonhead candies and the vodka made the flavor really penetrate into the tongue. Really enjoyed the buzz though.

I died three times. A. and J. died zero times. We beat the Blood Harvest campaign and called it a night.

Had some more drinks with A. Settled on the couch. Watched a movie. Moved to the bedroom. Made love. A. laughed, not cruelly and not without good humour, when I cried out in a funny yell as I came.

We were supposed to have gone to the gym this morning but when 5:20 rolled around we were in no mood or condition to go. Slept again. Woke up at 6:30 and snoozed until 6:40. Showered. Fixed my hair and took my medicine. Contemplated throwing up but didn't. Got clothes from our closet and the washroom. Dressed. Fed the dogs their dry food mixed with unflavored yogurt. Breakfasted on a blueberry muffin and a glass of milk while I watched Sponge Bob. Left seven minutes late because I couldn't pull myself away from the TV, even though I had seen the episode before.

Why is Squidward such curmudgeon? Why does he think he can play the clarinet?

Got into work right before eight. I passed our departmental dean on the stairs while I was heading down to my cube. Said hello while continuing to walk downstairs. Reached the hallway downstairs and said hello to my department director who was leaving his office. He was dressed in brown slacks, button up white shirt, and a thin, expensive looking grey wool pullover. Sharp. I wondered to myself if he was meeting with the dean to discuss the potential firing of a co-worker.

Felt mildly ill most of the morning. Not much work to do again. Left a foul and liquid dump in the bathroom stall. Had to give two courtesy flushes before I was through. Felt much better. Fell asleep at my desk again for about a half hour. Got mildly frustrated at being tired all of the time. Contemplated, again, if I might have chronic Lyme disease. Felt that I was acting like a hypochondriac.

Went to lunch with L. I had a delicious burrito, she had subway. Overate, didn't care.

Now waiting for A. to pick me up after work to go to my boss's holiday party. We'll probably say our hellos, mingle for an hour or two and head home.

Anxiety has been fine today. I'm extra stupid due to the hangover I had this morning, but doing well emotionally. Very satisfied to have spent time and made love with A. last night.

No real questions to myself today which I'm happy for. Just coasting along and looking forward to being off for two weeks come Friday.

A day in the life, or, what does reincarnation matter anyway?

Woke up at 6:20, hit the snooze button, got out of bed at 6:30. Showered. Shaved, made myself pretty with some aftershave and a skosh of pomade in my hair, then swallowed my medicine before I could forget. Groped my way slowly in the dark to our closet, fumbled the door open, pulled the string to turn the overhead light on. Found tthe clothes I would wear for the day, and still naked, went back through the bedroom and into the living room. Dressed and let one dog outside.

For breakfast I cut a slice of HEB sour dough bread in half, put peanut butter on one half, blackberry jelly on the other, and poured myself a glass of milk. I watched Spongebob Squarepants while I ate. Let the other dog out, let the first fog back in, and while the other dog did his thing outside, I made a lunch to take to work with me from the leftover salad and tortilla soup my wife had made the previous night.

Fed the dogs and then ran for door, running twenty minutes late.

On the way to work thought about a few things.

Do I believe in reincarnation? My life certainly seems to be focused on tyring to be the best person I can so that I will never have to come back here again. How much work on myself can I do? What do I do when I start to see diminishing returns? Is working so hard counterproductive to reaching my goal? At what point do I unapologeticly accept myself? It can really feel good to not worry about who I am, to just enjoy what I am doing.

What if when we die there is nothing more?

Arrived at the garage and walked in the cold to my building. Not much work to do again. Surfed the Internet, set this blog up. Smoked a clove with Jeff.

Lunch was good. Slept for a half hour and woke myself up once with a gentle snore. I coughed in case anyone heard me, hoping this would keep them from wondering how long I had been asleep. I liked the weight of my sweater and jacket on my chest while I was kicked back in my chair.

Smoked another clove with Jeff and did the modicum of work that was available to do.

Felt pretty baseline today. I'm getting nervous and excited about the New Year's party. Can't wait to maybe have a couple of drinks with A. tonight and shoot zombies in the face with her. Left 4 Dead is a hell of a game.

The story so far

Today has been good. Work is slow, as usual, and I finally got this blog set up.

My wife has been encouraging for a few months now to track my moods and habits so that I can see any trends that might pop up, and it seems like a blog will be a pretty easy way to do that. If I know that I have been depressed, anxious, or manic for a period of time, then it makes it much easier for me to just ride out whatever noise my brain is throwing up and just ride it out until I feel that I am back to baseline again. My mind can get so scattered that I sometimes don't even know that I have been acting out of sorts for days, not until someone asks me about it and I stop and actually think about how I have been feeling.

I'm currently taking 10mg of Lexapro every day, have been for about a year or so, and my quality of life has definitely improved because of it. I really wish I would have started taking it years ago. So much wasted time in my past due to my anxiety and depression, not to mention the emotional confusion and lack of stability. Regardless of that, I feel very grateful right now for how my life has turned out. I know I could live without medication, but living wouldn't be nearly as good.