I hope this is me writing this. Yesterday an alien took over my body and did things with it that I would never do. How bad was this? It packed for Falcon Ridge, two days before I leave. The real me would never do that. I’m leaving Wednesday morning, that means packing Wednesday morning. This alien did more. He called Montefiore and made an appointment for an infusion the day after I get back from Falcon Ridge. He did laundry. Not that out of character for me, other than the fact that I didn’t have such a huge load that it required three washing machines. What was scary was that when the laundry was finished he didn’t leave it as a pile of clothes. He not only folded and put thing where they belong but he put away everything that was in the pile left over from the previous laundry. He did more. There was a pile from god knows when and he put that away and threw away the clothes that had become tattered. That’s not the end of it. He then took my winter coats and put them away until next winter so they wouldn’t be taking up half my closet space. Then he hung things up in the now free space. He took the tent I ordered out of the shipping box and then immediately broke up the box and put it in the recycling bin. It gets worse. He then broke up some boxes that have been here for a month and broke them up and put them in the bin.
Who is this vile creature? What depths of depravity is someone who would do those things capable of? It certainly wasn’t me. If you encounter him do not try and capture him yourself. You should report him to the FBI, David Vincent, or Rob Petrie. You can recognize him as he lost his sense of humor and his thumbs. He breathes water, has an eye in the back of his head, and a fondness for walnuts.
I was feeling a lot of anxiety yesterday about all I had to do. My plan was to start on the laundry and meditate while it was in the dryer so I could do the rest. Then I started imagining writing about how an alien took over my body and did everything and was so amused by the thought, that I did everything to justify this entry. I’ll have fun discussing this in therapy. My therapist will enjoy it. I feel her other patients probably don’t do things like this.
When one of the cats was walking back and forth on the closed piano keyboard as I petted her I found myself singing, “Piano Cat” to the tune of Mahna Mahna. That’s something everyone does, right? I know it’s silly to ask but I just want to make sure.
Tomorrow I leave for Falcon Ridge. I won’t be writing again until Monday afternoon at the earliest. More likely the evening or even the next day. I have less Budgiedome anxiety than usual as I seem to have all my ducks lined up in a row. I have a new tent so I don’t have to worry about that. What I’m worried about now is my tickets. I got four from WFUV but they never asked me for what name to leave the other two with. I have to get the alien to take over my body again and call the station to make sure everything is set. If that doesn’t happen I’ll have to meditate. Wow, I can feel the anxiety rising in my gut. It’s a physical presence.
Wise Madness 