Stupid Colds, Wireless, and Meth Addicts

The wedding was really lovely. (Wait, did I even tell you I was going to a wedding? Well, I did, last weekend, in Denver. Now you're all caught up.) The bride and groom glowed, the sun shone, and I got to hug and chat with people I really care for. But it left me a little wobbly. Not the wedding, I think I'm beyond being discombobulated by people getting married, but being around the people I used to have so much in common with. Not my dear friends, seeing them was grand, but those others. The ones on the periphery of my old life, who measure their own success in pay checks and status. Not that I feel judged by them. Perhaps they do judge, but I jumped out of their race long before I left law school, and I don't feel it. But for some reason seeing them still left me feeling off my game. A little unhinged, maybe even depressed. And I'd planned to write a long post all about how wobbly I felt, and why the very fact that they could throw me off even a little freaked me out to an insane degree, but first I had to recover from a weekend of no sleep. And then my wireless stopped working. And then I got a bruiser of a cold. So now I can just make myself sit upright in a not so comfortable chair tethered to my ethernet cable long enough to say: fuck you, meth addicts. CoAdvil used to be a right, not a privilege. I used to be able to pick it up at any old convenience store. But now, to get a little relief, I have to drive all the way into town, and even at the grocery store I have to stand in line at the customer service counter, which is never adequately staffed, behind all the people waiting to cash checks and send money by Western Union, and then show picture ID and sign my name and address in a little book like I'm trying to get into Sing Sing to see some no-good named Bobby-Ray. And who has the energy to do that while fighting a cold? You've ruined a good thing you selfish jerks.

I'm going back to the couch and a Jeeves and Wooster DVD.