Sunday, February 9, 2020

 I ain't going to lie, beloved, but I woke up in a foul mood. Whatever cheap funk that's been hanging around since the first of the year kicked me in the teeth this morning. There was all expectations of this being one of those dark, tedious dirges I've been singing lately because I'm not interested in today's news, so far. But, I got wired & inspired, and took a nice constitutional with Otis. It improved my mood greatly.



 Still not singing a brighter tune - we're Tompall Glaser level of development, which just the other side of melancholy - but it's better than it was this morning. One of my dreams put me in a foul mood. I don't remember what it was about. I've tried keeping a dream journal, but I guess I'm not wired that way because I can never make it work. For one, I'm not an easy riser, but mainly because they're rarely all that interesting.

 I imagine I've touched on this before, but I have dull dreams. Dreams about being in college, having two homes but always getting lost on campus. Dreams about jobs I used to work but now I suck at them. Dreams about working at a job where I used to work and be one of the go-to guys, but sucking out loud. Dreams where I'm just working an old job again, and it's not unique because job suck anyhow.

 Never a sex dream but I'll often dream about that fun little time when a women is really into me and I'm just as digging on her, and neither of us have started find what's annoying about each other.. They're always pleasant. The best part of a relationship is that first six weeks before you get too comfortable with each other and everything you do together is fun, whether it's something you enjoy or something they enjoy. For me, anyway, and that probably explains why most of my relationships have crated out after six weeks, two months.

 Still, those are always fun, if a little melancholy, but my heart beats to a slow honky-tonk waltz. So whatever dream I had this morning was one of those that really stunk. Since I'm moved home, I've had more of the "shit at the job" dreams and a new wrinkle, dreams that my very presence is driving everyone around me, even close friends and family, to new heights of loathing and contempt.

 I've heard that heavy pot use retards dreaming and makes it harder to remember. Before I moved home, I'd stay stoned 24/7 if I didn't have to work. That last month in Jefferson and that one Christmas in Algiers Point where I didn't work and just read, watched movies, played games, and smoked truly staggering amounts of marijuana are probably the happiest of my life. So even remembering that I'd had a dream the sleep before was rare.

 Well. I got distracted and lost my train of thought. The point is, I was in a bad mood this morning and I'm not now, but I'm still wrapped up in this weird melancholy case of the blues, not necessarily even sad. Just... blue. Maybe it's the rain. We got pounded last week and we're supposed to get another round of pounding starting tonight, and as much as I dig the rain, it does get tedious.

 I spent last night re-reading old posts and pieces, and there's nothing that fits me playing the blues is going over my past "victories" that no one read. Even the thought of it sounds like Mose Allison.

 Okay, I'm kind of run down. A little tired. I think I'll go ahead and run with this. If something pops back up, check at the Tumblr site if there's nothing here. I really need to do something to separate the Blogger site and the WordPress site.

 I can't think of anything else really pertinent or interesting. Here's a link to a Willie Nash petition. The News is eat up with the Oscars, and I don't give two tugs about the Oscars. Y'all have fun, I just don't care.