If I Sound Confused…

… that would be because I feel like someone’s slipped something in my drink. The only reason I know for sure today’s Tuesday is because I watched a new episode of House followed by an episode of Fringe this evening, which can only happen on a Tuesday. My two favourite tv shows currently, which my broken internal clock somehow manages to alert me to even if it refuses to budge for anything of actual importance. Go figure. There’s also the time-stamp right here on my computer of course… but if it weren’t for these two irrefutable things, then I’d have no notion of time whatsoever right now. I do vaguely remember a day… I think it was last week, when I was really pleased to realize that the annoying noises that awoke me were the sounds of my two cats playing, yes PLAYING together. Just a short month ago I thought Fritz would sooner commit suicide than hang in the same room as Mimi… and so instead of telling the kids to quiet down so mommy can get some sleep, I got up to watch them play. Because it was quite an event, you understand. Like the Westwall coming down, tangible proof of the end of the Cold War. Unfortunately, I don’t have an official time and date to remember this event by. It may have been Friday in the night time. Since then, everything has been a blur of cats playing, and sleep, and me eating banana bread, and more sleep with dreams about cats playing, and cats waking me from my dreams about cats playing and me eating more banana bread and more sleep and cats landing on my face and eventually everybody sleeping in an exhausted heap. I got up at some point today vaguely thinking it was still the weekend—or close to it—and then noticed I’d called in a grocery order, as evidenced by the fresh food in the fridge, and I thought I remembered doing that “yesterday” but “yesterday” turns out to have been three days ago according to the date on the bill I’ve just found here. Do I sound confused? Must be the meds. I must have gone off them with all that sleep. I do feel like I’m on a drug trip, which is a sure sign that I’m having withdrawal symptoms from missing a few doses. Scary. This is why we need a schedule. So we won’t forget the meds. With the meds my life is hell. Without them, it’s worse. But no worries… I’ll get back into a normal schedule as of tonight. Whatever ‘normal’ is. Isn’t it ironic that I stopped doing illicit drugs because I didn’t want them controlling my life only to end up being forced to take pharmaceutical drugs for just that very purpose? No worries. That’s you mum and dad: don’t worry. Regular programming will resume soon folks. Do not adjust your tv sets. The cats are playing again! Weee!!! See? We’re just fine. And would you look at that? Someone ate all my banana bread…

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