blowing a gasket

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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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