Little Things

It's cold inside my head this morning, and down the back of my neck too. Someone has left a small, gray, leather, round mouse on my desk, and I am adopting him. As yet he is nameless, but today I shall take him home. I have left him here for two weeks in case someone came back to claim him, but no one has so now I will. I attach myself to small things and they become ridiculously important, all kinds of things--from smiles and socks to teddy bears and blankets to movies and lunches to hugs and clothing. I do not tolerate change. Not at all. All those little things must always be there or I forget how to cope. I melt into a useless lump of tears that nothing can fix.

I am sore in various odd places today, due to playing racquetball at 5:00 yesterday morning. After twenty minutes I thought I was going to die, so I escaped to the treadmill. Today I lifted weights and tortured my abs. I've lost weight, but I don't know if it's due to the exercise or the speed, which makes me forget all about eating. I reach the end of the day and realise that since breakfast I have eaten nothing, nor have I felt hungry. I didn't take it today. I didn't take any meds, I confess. I am just waiting to get through work so I can go to bed. And I am writing this while at work to keep from melting down. Melted down, I am of no use to anyone, especially not myself.

I tried talking to God last night. I think I fell asleep in the middle. I just tried telling him all the ways that I felt about everything and all the stupid stuff that was tormenting me. I wonder what he does with all that junk. How can he stand to not smite us off the face of the earth? I would not make a good God. I would make way too much use of lightening.

I seldom take off my coat these days. I am always cold.