Breathing my Mind into Your Face

I woke up at 8:25, 25 minutes later than I’d hoped. I went to bed just after 1am. My younger kid was still at home, but my older one made it to the bus stop ahead of his first day back after being out for a week with the flu. Mom would take the youngin today so he could sleep a little longer after losing an hour Saturday night. I opened the cupboard and took my daily Adderall, Lexapro, Thesis capsules to help regulate people on ADHD medication, Lipitor, and fish oil. I swallowed those with my morning Liquid IV energy and electrolyte powder. My anxious ass started to pucker during the last gulp and I high tailed it to the upstairs bathroom so I didn’t get yelled at by my wife for defacing the 1st floor toilet. Then I got a coffee and sat down on the recliner for the first half-hour of the Today Show before another anal exhume, shower, and weekly shave. I decided on my navy blue Marine Layer pants and Feherty white and blue sweater for my lunch meeting with the agency rep I used to work with.  

On the way to my 12:30 lunch I listened to our weekly all team conference call for a bit before hanging up when I arrived for a quick stop at the weed store. I bought $120 worth of gummies, vape cartridges, and pre-rolls; a small order for me. I was five minutes late for lunch but my hopeful client was 7. I tested out my new strategy of trying to listen to and help people instead of just telling people what they need to do. Thinking about how I can help people instead of what I can get from them should be a nice change of pace if I can remember how that works.

I made it home to jump on my bi-weekly therapist call 12 minutes late. I should stop seeing him because I’m not doing all the shit I need to do to be better. So why bother if I know I should stop smoking weed every night, start meditating, journaling, and engaging with the kids on their level instead of just telling them what to do then yelling at them when they ignore me? It’s $250 a session and my wife doesn’t work anymore. I do feel good after I speak with him though. Maybe one day it’ll click.

I did some job work for the rest of my afternoon. I should do more but I won’t. I should work right now, but instead I think I’ll go for a walk and smoke a doobie. Then later when I’m watching TV for 3.5 hours in the basement I’ll berate myself for failing to maximize my potential by doing job work, writing, or pursuing a side hustle. I’m 47 and I’ve never done any of this shit, but for some reason I still get mad at myself for not doing it. It’d be cool if I could accept this person I’ve become and tell myself good job once in a while.