Wrapped in Panic/Floating in Peace


I awoke. Too early. Too fucking early.

Fuck, its cold. I have to shut that window. Too much shit in the way. I’ve got to clean this room.

A lot of stuff I have to do.


Shit, I do a shoot tomorrow. North of Toronto.

Toronto from here. An hour and a half at least.

That means I’ve gotta get up at 7 or 6:30.

Fuck. I don’t want to do this…

I should call in and say I can’t do it.

But its 200 bucks for a day’s work.

Fuck fuck fuck

This is how it goes sometimes in my head when something’s off. A chemical missing. Fatigue. I forgot to take my med. My mind latches and runs. I woke up too early, of course, but I stayed in bed for another 45 minutes trying to get back to sleep. My brain wouldn’t let me. I wish it would work that fast when I’m doing other things like organizing for a shoot or math. I finally woke, grabbed a smoke, had some caffeine. Did some of the calming techniques I learned in California and everything settled.

Compare that to the night before. Tired as fuck only slept 4 hours. Forgot to take my meds. Ran around all day getting a new phone. Cleaning the car. Getting the call sheet for Sunday. Mapping out. Planning. Then hung out with the First at a old classmate’s house, taking her to a park later and getting a good half hour of heated make out.

I’m awesome.

There’s nothing better than that.

There is nothing else, but that.


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