Robitussin Blues

Head spun on cold medication -- again -- with only forty-five minutes to go in an especially tedious day. I have some concerns about visiting my father's parents on Sunday, because they spent really a lot of money helping me through my undergraduate degree, and now I use that very expensive piece of paper to justify my over-qualification for doing the job I'm doing. I wish I could actually write for a living, but if wishes were horses we'd all be well-fed.

I have difficulty concentrating when my head isn't where it needs to be; right now it's floating in a Robitussin haze while I try to clear the yellow goo out of my face where it's collected over what I can only imagine has been a period of months. It certainly feels that way -- it's like somebody took these futile leg-weights I wear everyday and tied them to my eyebrows. Ten pounds of pressure dragging face into keyboard karjwgioawrvmawi.

Forehead typing. Now there's a thought to chew on, no?

I called this blog the Politics of Being Good because that was going to be the title of my first novel. I never did get around to figuring out what it was going to be about, but I did reckon it was a pretty happening name. Maybe one of these days I'll be able to hammer out some kind of a cogent story from the things I write down here. I don't put a lot of stock in "maybe", though, because it's really all up to me, isn't it?

To whom, I wonder, do I keep directing these questions?

It feels like somebody's driving a nail up my nose. Down another swig of Recommended By Doctor Mom. And I think I am damn close to tapped.

Going to listen to a great blues band tonight. All it's going to do is make me want to play. For my money that's a good, good thing. The new guitar sounds great; almost makes me happy I fell on the last one. Almost. Going to play some blues. Robitussin blues, I think. It's purple, though.

Okay. This is why I don't write when I'm stoned, even legally stoned. You'll forgive this, loyal readers -- I will be back tomorrow with something more reasonable. I'll review the great blues band. That's what I'll do.

Assuming my head is clear as the big blue sky above me.