Fryday

I feel small ; old ; bucklig, hunched. Is “consumed” the right translation for “verbraucht”, is “washed out” more fitting ? I do not know. I feel like a spat out chewing gum.
Occasionally I look into he bathroom mirror, yes the one with this charming light (one bulb is broken again, it’s always the right one), and look at myself. “Take a good look at yerself and describe what you see. And Baby, do you like it ?” As Led Zeppelin put it.
I honestly can say that I do not like what I see : A puffy face with red flecks, greeny-black bags under the eyes ; everything falls down, even my stupid nose.
The working week just was. The news, ah bah. Some pollen do their nasty thing, Haselnuss und Erle (nut’s’n alder) on yellow alert, oh yes, bite me. What concerns me is that yesterday the views of my blog spiked up to one hundred (!) with just two American visitors. The dashboard says that only the main, starting page was visited / seen, no other posts.
Whatever.
What is left is sleep. The hope for deep, undisturbed sleep, preferably without dreams. Last week’s dreams were disturbing, unsettling, I’m glad not to remember.
Now, come on Morpheus, time to trundle off.

8 thoughts on “Fryday

  1. What are you eating, Sweetie? I hope you are eating enough fruit & veg? And drinking enough water? Water will see you right. And no caffeine after 5pm, this will help you sleep. Cut the alcohol. It might help. AND only ever look at yourself in the best lighting.
    Sxx

  2. “Veg” equals mushroom pizza, right ? Beer is made from water ; coffee now hurts my stomach, so it’s off the menue. And I will replace that bulb. So all is well around here, no worries MsScarlet !

  3. I feel very similar. It has been raining non-stop here, but I am far, far away, lost in dreams, nightmares and old history. Your history, my history, some other peoples’ history. Dead people no longer singing except in my head. So what do I do? Look to find myself someone who can teach me to play the Bodhran (Celtic drum) Maybe I can sing out the dead peoples songs so they stop haunting me. Every time I start to write a story it takes on a life of its own. It consumes me, it has its own rhythm. I should hurry and finish this one. The other stories are impatiently waiting there turn.

  4. Eh, what’s a bit of dog eared, shopworn tatteredness in a person of a certain age. I know because I’m older and I’m right there with you when I look in the mirror. Besides, bathroom lighting sucks. Plus, I think mirrors might lie?
    I hope, your rest was just that.. restful. May it cOntinue to be so.
    ..smooches, dearest Mago..

  5. Mirrors can lie, you know. It could be your MirrorMe that you were looking at – after he’d had a heavy night! I hope he’s gone when you next take a look.

    P. S. I’m listening to “Bottom of the Barrel”as I type this – that drum beat and saxaphone will keep you awake!

  6. Yes, I made one DInahmow ! Fresh from the can, with thuna and remoulade.

    Don’t let them wait too long in that line Melanie. Maybe they get angry. There is so much to be told.

    I think one should not look for too long into the mirror Hoppelschaum. And this weekend was restful, it was the right decision not to travel. I only realised how tired I was when I woke up.

    Never heared of this Mitzi. Read the user information (pdf), and it seems to be not too dangerous. Thank you for the recommendation !

    Those guys really let it run, don’t they IDV !?
    No hard nights for me or mirrorMe, ich will auch ganz artig sein …

Comments are closed.