Day 48 with the Overherd

Paranoia, paranoia
Everybody’s coming to get me
Just say you never met me
I’m running underground with the moles
Digging holes
— Harvey Danger, “Flagpole Sita”

The Overherd grazed on my dreams. I think I was in a hotel lobby during the Years of Zorn and Tharn, but even now the dreams are fading and I’m not certain; but where else would one see two large old-fashioned portraits surrounded by gilt and stuffy furniture? Okay, furniture stores, but these days those make me shudder.

It’s difficult to hang onto Cozy Cow, ze is so big, so I went back to cuddling the Overcow. Ike sat on top of Large Round Cow to help keep lookout, as I’m beginning to slip into paranoia.

I’d go to work, but I have to stay home as the shiny new Mac (who I may name Brandywine) is arriving. I bought it from Amazon because they sanely require a signature for expensive packages, and Apple prefers to have stuff just left on the porch. In its distinctive Apple packaging. Yeah.

I want to sit and cry, but I can’t, which makes it all rather worse, and I’m scared of staying downstairs because of the past, and scared of staying upstairs because of the now, so I’m a mess inside. I just don’t look like a mess outside. Kind of Stepford Smilish.

I’ll just hug my cows, each in turn, and hope for the best. I think I’ve convinced myself that tomorrow is not The Day, but I’m not sure.

I startle at cars coming down the street. Maybe because I’m afraid of the delivery man; I don’t want people to see me, but I know I need to see people….

2 thoughts on “Day 48 with the Overherd

  1. Tomorrow is not The Day. Definitely not. The day after tomorrow is not The Day either. You have time/space.

  2. Yeah, I know, sort of. My brain is stubborn. I can yell at it all I like, but I think it’s gotten hung up on Wednesdays. Next week is my birthday. More or less.

    Right now, my bartender would tell me to try to figure out a soothing but appropriately celebratory activity to look forwards to.

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