Its a spring winter wonderland outside here in Wisconsin. We got a foot of snow, it snowed all day Tuesday and all day Wenesday. Twenty four hours straight. I was so sad to see all the grass and pavement cover with snow again. It was just a few days ago it was so warm I was able to talk Eleanor on long walks. Eleanor won't walk in the snow. I have to carry her. She just poops and pees and is done. Right back in the house.
I did get those Oxy 80mgs. Five of them for 100 bucks. I used half of one pill, and got so loaded I scratched till I bled. I also puked nearing ten times. I was a pitifull excuse for a person. My tolerance is a lot lower than I had estimated. Thank god the only person to see me was me and poor Elle. I did reach my goal of getting so high I couldn't stand up. Stupid goal. It wasn't any fun. The only thing I did enjoy is it took away all my anxiety, and lonelyness. I doubt I'll do it again. It kept me from going to the gym, and lately I like the high I get from working out better than the high I get from opiates.
One commenter said, I have a addictive personality. This is true, the commenter also said I should focus my addictive personality on exersize and diet and I wouldn't be so self destructive. BTW, I think I have lice. This is something that got me thinking. The exersize thing, not the lice thing. I would love to become a water aerobics instructor. I would get to spend three hours every three days in the pool working out. I don't know how to spell this machine I work out on, I'm going to try to spell it, eliptical machine. I like the eliptical machine better than the treadmill because it makes me go faster. It hurts my calves less. For some reason on the treadmill I always get cramps in my calves.
For some reason I keep clenching my jaw really tight, and I have to consiously think about unclenching it to stop myself. Its been giving me a tension headache. I'm also reading a book called genius and Heroin, its about all the artistic geniuses who used Heroin, and other drugs, inclueding drink.
Now I'm going to read other peoples blogs. All of them better writers than I am. I just can't do prose. I can't do poetry. The one thing I love to do and I suck at it. Maybe I was just ment to be a burnt out junkie.