So is it Saint Tibs Day or Sadie Hawkins Day or Leap Day?
Omens, portents and superstitions are my Achilles Heel.
Also performing Liber Resh.
Oh well, there is no god.
Yes, very quaint. Dialup in this day and age.
The crazy part of me who is kept locked up in a basement cell, the sole occupant of the asylum which is my mind, opened the little window-door in his cell room door. With a strong stage whisper he began to tell the reasonable night watchman, who happens to always be on duty, that it was a message from my family telling me that my father is dead. Anxiety began to aggregate and the steel door to his cell began to weaken in the presence of anxiety.
Now I wasn't muttering to myself, barking strange things or repeating bizarre mantras over and over again but really violent thoughts began bubbling up in my mind. I kept telling myself "Stop it. It's okay."
Thursday during my first break I took the job's cordless phone and checked my voicemail. One was a stupid political poll given by a computer and the other call was from Brian who was just touching base with me. I took a deep breath, had the night watchman go downstairs and fix the door and lock the window-door before we both went outside to lie in the sun for five minutes.
What a relief. The rest of the day went quite well. Honestly I've never felt like this before.
Is this something like happiness?
