blowing a gasket


I’m lying on my bed again, looking into my laptop, my dog is lying behind me with his rear end pressed into my side. We both do our best thinking in a totally relaxed position. I am stoned, and Louie probably is too from second hand smoke. If I don’t write anything eventually I’ll get up and get something to eat. I might eat some peanut butter on a banana, Louie might get a wow-wow chewy snack or maybe a piece of cake. I have been doing this most evenings since November. I’m worried that I  may not make it through to spring without blowing a gasket, or losing my marbles.


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