Friends without Acquaintances

Earache my eye it's the first Saturday of this already distinctly claustrophobic year.

I feel saddled unspecifically with strangeness, which is never news, but I've had a cold for days and feel somehow now that it's aware of no longer "running the show," which is nice. Perhaps it will abdicate its ornamental authority sooner than later. It had not been elected or even appointed--it merely filled the vacuum borne of a fuck-you holiday humor game that distressed me deeply. I could go into that, but most assuredly will not do so--suffice it to say, however, that I feel differently about almost everything, while managing still to weather the uniquely samey slothfulness of having a cold in January.

Oh, I know. Solipsism. A time-honored rigmarole.

I'm going to be brief. I can feel it, because I'm underdone with lots of other things. Maybe a small list of facts is in order. Hey yeah so it's like what follows in the following List of Facts:

1. In spite of relative swelter in December and January, winter remains an enemy to humankind.

2. I'm probably going to have to take livelihood into my own hands. Humiliation regarding "the job search" has become so routine by this point that I have little, if any, reduction in pride to suffer from trying.

3. While it is worth celebrating that my Multiple Sclertosis is not progressing, I feel afraid that I'll rend under the contant stress of superimposed expectations and priority problems.

4. I get crazy-arsed, substandard MOR songs in my head every single blasted day. Then, they'll get played on the radio (a phenomenon that is worth another blog post altogether); this has happened with songs like "Garden Party" (by Rick Nelson), "Make a Move on Me" (by Olivia Newton-John) and "It's Alright" (by Christopher Cross).

5. Our neighbor across the street got arrested at about noon. I'm pretty sure that this development amounts to more than half of the street's residents having had this happen.

6. It would be the greatest to enjoy life, and I'm trying very hard to do just that. I often succeed.

7. This has been a List of Facts.

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