All Things Profane and Sacred

Being unemployed means having low grade anxiety all the time. No matter what you are doing, the background worry rumbles around and sloshes against your insides. Sometimes jets of fear well up and spill out and once in a while you have a giant fear induced blowout. It makes you tired, keeping all that under control all the time.

I've got a runny nose and a rumbling cough. Despite the gigantic pile of mail on my desk, a memo for the ACLU that is unwritten and other opportunities to attend to, I'm going to drink some NyQuil and come to after I feel better (I may mix it with Pepto and see if that will soothe the anxiety produced hole in my stomach). NyQuil, NyQuil, NyQuil, We love you, you giant fucking Q!