For someone who was always so adamant about living on the edge for so many years it feels strange to think about my life as it is now. It feels like I'm running out of fuel, like this is it, which is ridiculous because I have quite a bit of life left in my future I would guess based on average life expectancy for American adults. I suppose funks are part of life, all people must have cycles, times when we feel either on top of our shit or the opposite. I'm the opposite of on top these days. I feel tired all the time, so I sleep and do nothing which seems to only make me more tired. I've noticed that during the best times of my life I was really busy, usually in school and working full time also. I work but it feels like all I do is work, eat, sleep, and clean up after my dogs.
My poor dogs, they are so tired of being cooped up inside. At least they have each other to play with. We took them all out for a walk on Saturday when we both had the day off. It's always a major event to go for a walk when there is snow on the ground still. We can't really go where other people take their dogs because we like to let them off their leashes once we get on a trail and honestly they are not extremely friendly. People with big dogs also don't realize that their dogs can hurt mine and also that my dogs are small but will still bite. I'm always stunned by how many people encourage their children to approach us and touch the dogs. Who in their right mind would tell a kid to go up to a pack of stray dogs, especially as the owners are ushering them the opposite direction, calling them away? A lot of people are guilty of just that around here. But if my dog nips at them it's my fault. Anyhow, our walk didn't last long because they kept sinking in the snow. We tried to get them to follow us in a line which worked for all but Junior the lone boy pup who is a little slow; he kept wandering off the footpath and getting lost up to his head in snow.
See, this blog is so boring. I wish all the Internet communication that is available today was around when I was younger. I kept journals of course, which in some ways I am glad about. Journals have a personal quality that even the coolest web sites and blogs lack. It's like the difference between reading a real newspaper versus an online version, there is just something lacking for me. But maybe I would have a more thorough history of my life if I had had a computer as light as a purse and a digital camera back then. But all I have is rolls upon rolls of undeveloped film.
When I was younger I was afraid of nothing. I would try almost anything and it didn't matter if I didn't have enough money or if my car maybe wouldn't make it, I would still try and I have a lot of good stories as a result of those times. And then there were the years where I would really do whatever it took but not because I had courage but I had drugs behind me making me courageous. The lack of excitement due to quitting H has always been one of the more difficult aspects of not using for me. There is not a lot of down time when heroin is your whole life. You are either busy trying to cop or you are content because you just copped and now you are high, or hopefully sleeping at least. Either way there is not a lot of time to think about all the mundane moments life contains. Now I have all the time in the world. Twelve hours at a time to simply sit and think if I want to.
So I read a lot of books so I can immerse myself in someone else's life. That annoys Mike so much, when I get really into a book and I read all my waking hours away. He talks to me until he is so pissed off because he has to keep repeating himself and then he gives up. I get hooked on anything that lets me forget about work and bills and mortality. If it is enough of a distraction, I'll ignore cleaning the kitty litter until the smell is sickening, I won't eat until I'm starving, won't do the dishes until I have none and then I'll buy paper plates. And when the book or the movie or drugs are gone it's like a family member or part of myself died and there is a short time of mourning and then hopefully a new distraction appears. School does that for me in many ways too. I feel at least I'm moving forward when I'm in school, at least then I can tell myself 'Better late than never'.
It's snowing hard right now. I'll firmly stick to my belief that we get more snow in March than any other month in Vermont these days. For the past ten years or so I've been living here, the winter appears to be creeping up on spring leaving us with a soggy spring and a weak, cloudy summer. Anyway, I'm at work now and it has been a quick night as opposed to the nights that drag on as if they will never end. I only blog at work because I don't have Internet access at home and I'm too lazy to lug my laptop out to a wifi location on my days off so I just utilize the 48 hours a week I'm stuck in a shack with little amusement other than books and blogs. I get out in about an hour, at seven. I have to shovel out the doorway to my little shack and throw down some salt before I leave. I can't wait until the days are longer and I can sit outside and read in the warm morning sun and eat strawberries.
N.
Ooh, at least I don't have to haul myself to the clinic, or more accurately endure the ride while Mike drives. We got storm bottles. That saves so much time!
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