Numb

Fee fi fo fum
Now I'm borrowed
Now I'm numb

The Addict, Anne Sexton

I didn't go to the gym today. Which is news because I've been pretty good about it this whole week. Yes I have. But today I have a frog in my throat and a cough that goes on forever and I'm thinking, no, I'm not going to go through that again.

So I'm back home early for tea, and then some cough-en (it's such a potent cough linctus that you have to give them a heck of a lot of information about self, before they let you buy it).

Dope and some sleep. All a girl needs.

I'm re-reading The Four Agreements now. The first, of course, is to be impeccable with one's word. Which is like, really, really hard. When you exist in an atmosphere of evasions and half truths. Funny, I wouldn't have identified myself as a purveyor of half truths.

After all, tact is not my middle name. Yes, yes, Dins, I know it's Carol, but that's not what I'm talking about OK?

My friend Addy called me just now to chat. I told her I was in my jammies. I feel proud of the fact that it's barely six and I'm in my jammies.

Sometimes a few choice words sum up your life.

It's six o'clock and I'm in my jammies:

Implication: You're sick.

Implication: You must have a really nice boss.

Implication: You have no life.

Implication: You have nowhere to go, no one to see.

Implication: All of the above.

Fee fi fo fum, now I'm borrowed, now I'm numb.