![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Apr. 16th, 2010 09:28 pmI always seem to be tired, and now...now I have no reason, no excuse.
I only seem to feel awake when I'm drunk.
Janna, I ask her if it's silly and she never says yes; it's always a good time to get drunk if I want to. I'm only not-drinking tonight, alone, like last night, because I don't want to get fat. Or stay flubby.
Tomorrow I will be drinking, and it's sort of like a saved up reward: pizza, or chocolate, or a day off from the gym...or getting drunk. When I get there I'm never as interested in the "reward" as much as I wanted it when it was denied. The pizza wasn't as good as in my imagination, and the drunk...I didn't really want it anymore, and I was so used to controlling those feelings I couldn't really let them go anymore.
Drunk used to make me confident enough to roll around and engage, touch anybody, but today it just makes me happier to sit and reflect as I watch from a distance. I don't feel alone, however.
At the hearing,
I was in a room full of hunters. The Arbitrator told a story about how he was on a deer stand when a buck came right up next to him, and he found his rifle sights were fogged up so, having a concealed carry permit, he pulled his 357 out and blammed the deer with a pistol. They talked about how far deer ran after they were shot with various munitions and arrows. I smiled, and burned inside thinking about the suffering that was so comfortable, that rather than reducing pain with a quick kill if it is ok to hunt - they only saw the inconvenience of having to pursue their prey. They knew their guns, scopes, barrels, compared bullet sizes and how many grains of gunpowder was in each round. I did note that a lot of what they said paralleled the zombie survival handbook - big shotgun blasts and rapid fire or even stupidly large caliber items all fell to the simple accurate small caliber rifle. I told them about the zombie guide out loud.
The Arbitrator complained about how slow the university computers were (he's a college law professor too) and told a story about how he once did an arbitration and an attorney had a laptop covered with stickers. He asked if that was a sticker-covered government computer, and the attorney said no - it was his personal computer, but he used it for work because it was better than the bogged down government junk. I listened to the story before I pointed out that the attorney he was describing was actually me.
I only seem to feel awake when I'm drunk.
Janna, I ask her if it's silly and she never says yes; it's always a good time to get drunk if I want to. I'm only not-drinking tonight, alone, like last night, because I don't want to get fat. Or stay flubby.
Tomorrow I will be drinking, and it's sort of like a saved up reward: pizza, or chocolate, or a day off from the gym...or getting drunk. When I get there I'm never as interested in the "reward" as much as I wanted it when it was denied. The pizza wasn't as good as in my imagination, and the drunk...I didn't really want it anymore, and I was so used to controlling those feelings I couldn't really let them go anymore.
Drunk used to make me confident enough to roll around and engage, touch anybody, but today it just makes me happier to sit and reflect as I watch from a distance. I don't feel alone, however.
At the hearing,
I was in a room full of hunters. The Arbitrator told a story about how he was on a deer stand when a buck came right up next to him, and he found his rifle sights were fogged up so, having a concealed carry permit, he pulled his 357 out and blammed the deer with a pistol. They talked about how far deer ran after they were shot with various munitions and arrows. I smiled, and burned inside thinking about the suffering that was so comfortable, that rather than reducing pain with a quick kill if it is ok to hunt - they only saw the inconvenience of having to pursue their prey. They knew their guns, scopes, barrels, compared bullet sizes and how many grains of gunpowder was in each round. I did note that a lot of what they said paralleled the zombie survival handbook - big shotgun blasts and rapid fire or even stupidly large caliber items all fell to the simple accurate small caliber rifle. I told them about the zombie guide out loud.
The Arbitrator complained about how slow the university computers were (he's a college law professor too) and told a story about how he once did an arbitration and an attorney had a laptop covered with stickers. He asked if that was a sticker-covered government computer, and the attorney said no - it was his personal computer, but he used it for work because it was better than the bogged down government junk. I listened to the story before I pointed out that the attorney he was describing was actually me.
