The Cure for Melancorley

I've been in a funk for a month or two now. Just generally melancorley, unmotivated, and a little miffed that I'm living in filth and not getting anything done.
This morning I woke up feeling totally different. I've had moments of euphoria - laughing, dancing around a little while I relate a story - acting the way I do when I am happy or excited, if you know me well enough to know what that is like. I am a spazzy goof-ball. It is fun for me, and those around me who get to laugh about it. Unfortunately, this is followed by absolute exhaustion. A tsunami like attack of "tired head" (I don't know what else there is to call it), crashes into my brain - I feel it most behind my eyes, and in the center of my brain, if that makes any sense at all. This makes it hard to think, to gesture, even blink. Everything slows down until it passes.

Ah, Narcolepsy, my insidious companion. How jealous you get!
So what changed? Last night I helped Casey clean house, and while I swept and mopped, my "Top 25 Most Played" play list blared over the speakers Casey hooked up for me, and I sang as enthusiastically as I could. Using the broom as an occasional mic or dancing partner. While the floor dried I danced alone, sang to Emma, and then danced with her. Casey and I both got up to sing along and dance around ridiculously to "The Mariner's Revenge," and I cleanly sang all of the difficult phrases in "Fox Confessor Brings The Flood" and "John Saw That Number" without switching into my breathy "head voice" (remember that one, choir kids?) which is easier to control, but sounds like crap.
Emma got so worked up at one point that she was bounding around his house, hopping like a grasshopper and sliding on the tile floor.
Then I got an e-mail from Mark saying he was still interested on working together on some of his songs - which means that one day I might actually sing on a stage again, and not in a god-awful black dress or choreographed medley.
The latter part is exciting, but not what did it for me. I think that the singing and dancing is. I had more fun than I've had in a pretty long time. I almost feel like I should incorporate it into my daily routine (true, I'm too scattered to have a routine) for the sake of mental health.
When I think of it, back in high school, Lauren and I did something similar on a somewhat daily basis. To preface, there were rumors that I was a lesbian, and since Lauren and I spent all of our time together...
So we decided to just live it up. If they wanted lesbians, they'd get it. We would BLARE Melissa Ethridge, Cher, Tracy Chapman, etc. roll down the windows, and SING. I always felt great returning to school from lunch. Maybe I should do that now - spend my whole lunch break singing.

My Narcoleptic Life

It takes a lot of dedication to sleep through three alarms.

People train for shit like this. For me, it just comes naturally.

My Narcoleptic life

This sort of counts, but it was pretty late at night when it happened.

Hooray holidays!
I am doing tons of baking. I am making little goodie-kits for all of those people I love but cannot afford. They include snickerdoodles, oatmeal cranberry-walnut cookies, snowflake shaped sugar cookies, mint brownies, and either spiced hot chocolate and cider, or ginger-lemongrass green tea (depending on your expressed preference, or the fact that you're my grandma and like tea more). F-U-N!
So I've been staying up late watching Law and Order and CSI or, if it is really late, Strong Medicine, while I slave and ingest far too much sugar. I was particularly proud of my idea for the mint brownies. I had saved them for last the other night, I thought it would be great to have a warm brownie and milk right before bed. I tossed them in the oven to begin their 26 minute bake, had a smoke, played some sudoku, sat down on the couch to enjoy the new Damien Rice CD and woke up to a silent house, and the strong smell of burning sugar. I'd slept for over an hour, it was nearly three in the morning and if the brownies weren't on fire yet they were damn close.
I was still disoriented enough to not realize how long it had been. I was having trouble remembering what time I had meant to take them out. I grabbed the pan and set it on top of the stove, only to be hit by a smell that must resemble that of Santa's Elves burning at the stake. It was awful - but minty fresh. I grabbed it again, ran it outside and dropped it on the woodpile and came back in to clean up. Upon later inspection I realized that brownie bricks should have been used in the construction of temporary housing post tsunami and Katrina. REALLY.
I made them again last night. This time they went in first and I watched the Cosby show and ate dinner while they were baking. Yummy!

Just a couple of things:

In response to my own complaint, I narc-ed out last night. Before I got a chance to go running, before I had a chance to see CSI, before I had a chance to finish my post on Maternal Mortality/Morbidity. That will be posted this afternoon, hopefully along with one on Genital Mutilation.

Did I ever tell you about my photo problem?
No?
Well, I have about 250 of Ex #1's photos on my computer, and he wants them back. Problem is, I don't have a burner on my computer, and no good way to load them onto something to take them to school and use one of those computers and email is slow. I am not spending money to get these pictures to him. 1) I don't have any. 2) He should have taken them off before I moved if it were some important. SO I finally realized I could just create a Flickr account for him. Now I am wondering why it took ME so long to think of that.

After doing some browsing of NaBloPoMo blogs, I am changing my template. I love this one, but so does everyone else. Mr. A and I are going to work together to make me a new one. "Awww..." SO look forward to it.

Also, go check out the NaBloPoMo randomizer on my sidebar.

I'm off to sling fried food for 4 hours, and then answer phone for another four. At least I'll have some money at the end of the day.

I already have a huge project planned for December. Call me crazy.

My (boring) Narcoleptic Life

Ever since I got medicated all of the funny things quit happening. It's sort of a bummer, but only when I want to get a good laugh out of someone. The rest of the time it rocks.

There will always be the painting incident, my birthday, and the embarassing accident.