Successful Day

and it hurts
deep and hollow while being
overstuffed and cringing in pain from the slightest touch

both full and entirely empty

so much actually all at the same time.
but nothing actually happens

brain cells firing off as ants in crisis after their mound is stepped on
pain so great yet so much to do


so overwhelmed by the enormity I wish I were the Zebra.
The Zerba grounded by five lions, there is nothing left to do but die.

but the Zebra is lucky, death comes quickly

For me I am the cricket missing one back leg, that avoided the cat's play.
Alive, but injured.  Not able to live the life of a cricket, no sounds, no mate will want me.

I hobble, a cripple, but unlike the cricket who is missing a leg, no one can see my deformity.

and a moment of relief comes,  as two more hours of  wasted life, bites the dust.
 
not closer to beauty
not closer to love
not closer to happy

With the two hours gone, guilt and despair crush me for the next hour, like a Boa contstictor killing its prey slowly squeezing breath out of life.

and then my body says "I'm hungry"

so, the safari to find a clean spoon in the kitchen begins.
Deep in a sink full of cold slime with a thick protective layer of bio-matter lurks the object I need.
Breaking through the protective layer causes the unnatural ecosystem below to erupt with activity and it burps out the stench of rot, so strong neither Fabreeze nor Lysol stand a chance.

Spoon found. I still have my fingers, only lost a few nose hairs, 
I leave the unnatural ecosystem alone to repair itself.
and to the bathroom I go to wash the spoon. 

Back to the kitchen to check the 'fridge for any nourishment to appease my hungry body.
tortillas without any mold,...
peanut butter,...
and jelly - which at second look is fermented - and thrown into the overflowing trash.

No energy to clean the counter or stove from the layer of bacteria and mold, so I use an 11" piece of wax paper as protective layer, then put a 10" piece on top of that.

Peanut butter spread on an old tortilla - the body is momentarily satisfied.

And I see the meds laid out, neatly, on the only spot on the counter that is not disease infested.
Seven small containers each with a day's worth of medication. Medication both prescribed and from the health food store. So many during the day, each day needs its own container, normal people can buy those week-at-a-time-containers with seven little attached lids, I can't.

The containers tell me, it was not, just, two hours of  wasted life that bit  the dust.   It was 2 days.

Today is Wednesday, the pill-containers show me I did not take my meds today, nor did I take them Monday or Tuesday.   I did take them some Thursday-through-Sunday in the past, but right now I don't know how far in the past, so my 2 days of wasted life, may have been two-weeks, and 2 days.

Doesn't really matter, I see the problem now, and will take today's meds.

I just hope that I can remember to take my meds tomorrow, or that a meteor hits me in the head and kills me instantly.

Either way it will be a successful day.