Hung Over, & Healthy Dose of Terror.

Hung Over.
Today I feel listless. My lips are parched; I'm dehydrated. One of those days that lethargy and fatigue take over and you inevitably feel hung over. Dehydration. Hangover. Basically the same thing.

Some people go by that rule of thumb of drinking about 8 glasses of water (8 oz. each) a day. If that's the case, I down about 15-20 glasses on any given day. Why so thirsty? I have no idea. Since college I've been a fish.

This week I feel battered; my shins are bruised.  I hope no one notices. I have scratches all over my hands from packing up boxes - or golf class - or cooking - or anything, really.

Hello, Terror.
Realization is rolling in with the tide and I am a bit petrified. A bit of terror is healthy every now and again, though. A side of intimidation with my peach iced tea, please. Contentment can breed complacency and grows from that crop of the Life-is-long school.

Like sushi rolls that have a pinch of hidden wasabi at the bottom, but to enjoy the entire fish you have to experience that sudden burst of spice in your nostrils. Enjoyment coupled with spice. Or a burning sensation. Comes in a package deal.  No way you would have known beforehand.  Or even known to ask. (Thanks, Teru Sushi.  Now I'll always be suspicious.)

So go, people. Get out there. Be terrified.

Some days, you really have smooth, positive experiences at work.  You feel content; you feel good; a hard day's work is done.

Other days...well.

I really like that song 'Airplanes' by B.o.B. feat. Hayley Robinson.

You can practically hear the passion and desperation and energy and seething discontentment bursting at the seams.

And - it's damn catchy.

I feel a little bit of it sometimes - in that moment when I get home from a particularly long day and I rip off my work clothes as if they were on fire.

But they are not on fire, they are just regular business casual clothes appropriate for my profession.

Forget all the glitz of your Almighty Five-Year, Ten-Year, or whatever Life Plan. When your plans unravel, what would you wish for if you had one chance?

You can't always live life in a do-or-die fashion.  Sometimes you have bricks in your knapsack that cannot be discarded.

But sometimes, when the effervescence rises, it spills over.

Yikes.

Water!

I couldn't fall asleep last night.

The vivid image of my friend's eyelids fluttering closed while her eyes rolled back to the side of her head just before she collapsed in front of me kept flashing into my head.

A wave of panic and you go from a moment of leisure in a club to being gripped by fear.

No OD here. No alcohol, no roofie, no substance abuse whatsoever. Just plain lack of food and water. She was dehydrated and had only eaten a single meal that day, apparently.
But food. And water. The most primitive, essential human needs for survival.

Maybe the most disturbing thing about all this was the nonchalance with which she was already over it. Over the fact that she was unconscious for ten incredibly tortuous seconds, lying on the floor of The Mayan, her friend yelling her name, enveloped in complete surreality of what was happening. The feeling that a dear friend may not be taking care of herself is in the back of your brain, the warning signs, every subtle hint of a red-flagged piece of behavioral evidence suddenly rushes up to the surface of your brain all at once.

I can't stomach this kind of drama. It wasn't even that dramatic - makes sense on paper - 'she was dehydrated, so she fainted.'

But I can't sleep.

Drink tons of water, people. Forget Hollywood. Remember to eat. Multiple times a day.