What are we doing? Where are we going? Who are we? What day is it? What did you want to talk about? I don�t know, you called me, remember? It was something about the way the sunlight hits in the afternoon. It�s blinding. I have to go downstairs and hide from the rays. I�m supposed to avoid prolonged direct exposure to sunlight, you know.
At least, that�s what the prescription bottle said. I�ve always wondered what would happen if you got the wrong instructions at the pharmacy and you never knew it. There was a Law & Order* about that last year, where the ESL girl misread "one every 24 hours" as "one every two to four hours," but what if the drugstore fucked up and killed you? I�m sure it happens and I�m sure there are lawsuits.
I�m on this new medication, see, and it�s got a little speed in it, I think. I�m supposed to take one every twelve hours. I took my first pill this morning at 8:30 and by about 2:00 I was tearing it up here in University Town, firing off emails, applying for jobs, attending meetings, and reading things like a bat out of hell. I took another one around 6:00 (blow me, I have to take them with food and the cafeteria doesn't operate on a schedule that's going to keep me in food every twelve hours, plus I'm poor, so I eat when I can, and I don't care what your mother says, because uncooked spaghetti DOES TOO count as food) and it brought me down a little bit, but if I'm doing my math correctly, it should kick in here in about an hour or so. And when it does, watch out.
Not that it makes a whole lot of difference what I do tonight, regardless of what the happy pills do to my system. Everything is cyclical, it seems, so that no matter how much I get done today, I'll have to do it all again tomorrow. It makes me wonder why everyone gets so caught up in all these deadlines and projects. Why make your bed each morning when you're just going to unmake it each night? I only do it because there's not a couch in my dorm room so I have to sit on my bed.
Just when I get my inbox cleaned out, I get ten spam emails from Crash and everyone sends out a Notifylist at the exact same second, so I'm swimming in updates for the next four hours. I check my snail mail and throw away the propaganda from the campus Baptist brainwashing center, but there'll be more solicitous material to toss tomorrow. I update tonight and feel guilty tomorrow because it's almost been twenty-four hours and sometimes when no one's paying attention I like to pretend that people actually read the site and care when I don't update.
So this drug's effects are varied and extreme, apparently. I get hyper and energetic, knocking out some class notes and reading, but I can also get philosophical and depressed, lamenting the circle of life. At this rate, I just may be schizophrenic by Saturday, so send in your referrals to health care professionals, but try to keep them in the price range of Dr. Nick ("Hi, everybody!").
Speaking of Law & Order, I caught the oft-maligned three-part Los Angeles adventure on TNT tonight and I have a few comments. First off, TNT, shame on you for superspeeding the tapes. That's just wrong. We know you�ve got the monopoly on reruns of the show now, so why aren't you subject to antitrust laws like, say, Microsoft? Speeding up the theme song? For shame. And running the credits of one episode on the bottom half of a split-screen while the next episode starts in the top half? Shady, I tells ya. But I was here to bitch about how the whole L.A. thing reeked of contrivance and that Jane �- hold on, I better spell it right or someone will throw a spaz -- Janeane Garofalo's character was essentially useless after the first hour. It was worth seeing just to say that I've seen it, but now I understand what all the uproar was about.
Someone got here by searching for: "how the hell do i do algebra" You are seriously asking the wrong person. Just cross your fingers that I didn't fail this morning's test. Reading: A letter from an old friend. It came today with the Baptist propaganda and it made me smile until I cried. Listening to: Stroke 9. The first CD was better. Watching: Ellen�s new talk show, and calm down already with trying to stage and rehearse everything. Let it breathe. Eating: We had tacos tonight, which were excellent. Then we had roast beef, so y'all can tell my mother that I'm eating. Drinking: Get this shizzy. I'm on a straight-up water diet until next Monday. This weekend is going to suck, yo. How I'll miss my friends Skyy and Bacardi.
DISCLAIMER: For real yo, I'm not on medication for depression. It's all cool, just a little navel-gazing on a Monday night. Sort of. Well, not technically. The bottom line is, I'm not depressed or anything, I'm just typing. It's what I do. "A writer writes." What movie was that? Throw Momma From the Train, that's right. Back when I could still stand Billy Crystal.
