I got a couple of Old Navy giftcards for Christmas and my birthday. So, I tried to spend them last week. Tried.
I walked into the store, and the music was loud. Like, raise your voice to be heard loud. I put a second earplug in and was disappointed when the noise was only dampened. The whiny rock the kids listen to these days (lol) pierces my cranium, earplugs be damned. My boyfriend asked an employee to turn it down, but they said that they needed the manager for that, and the manager would be back in ten minutes. We were on a schedule, so I tried to tough it out, but ended up bolting from the building just a few minutes later. I'm going to try again, hopefully this week, but I'm going to have my boyfriend call ahead to make sure someone with the power of volume control will be available. I checked out their website, but I'm irked by shipping costs. This is probably the dumbest thing I have ever blogged about, I mean, first world problems much? But it happened and it was frustrating.
After we left the store, I was in a haze. I was sort of blind and sick and confused. All I could think was to grab for the pipe in my pocket, lean against a wall and take a toke or two. This is only really notable because this was the first time I'd medicated in public without feeling guilt or anxious or uncomfortably conspicuous. For the first time, I just did it, (discreetly, as usual), without any furtive looks around, or worrying about who could see me or what they would think. It's possible that I only had this moment of aplomb because I was so far gone that feeling sneaky was nowhere on my list of priorities. It was all about breathing, standing, not dropping anything and not crying. It's easy to forget about the rest of the world when your head's about to fall off.
This morning, I went to the huge farmer's market with my parents, brother and boyfriend. It's beautiful here today, in the high 60's, sunny, with just a light breeze. It's a big enough market to be intimidating, though, I played it just right: I ditched everyone else at the first sign of loitering. I don't have spoons for idle standing and jibber-jabbering. I kept moving, my eyeses on the prizes. And when I had finished the circuit, I found me a seat on the ground. There was one bench, but it had no back, so I was better off on the ground, leaning against the bike lockers.
By the time everyone else had caught up, I was fit to go again. At least, enough to get back to the car. And then I had another twenty minutes of freeway to rest before I had to tackle the insurmountable challenge of my front steps. Once inside, another half hour of rest and medicating, and I managed to take the dog out for the slowest walk ever and get a few chores done.
I'll spend the rest of today like this, with lots of resting, watching the superbowl, but also some light cleaning, and maybe a little gardening, too. It's shaping up to be a lovely Sunday.