A Case of Logorrhea

Ever had one of those days where nothing seems to get you down? Days where you feel completely at ease with who you are and where you are and nothing, not even your impending unemployment seems too colossal a challenge you cant undertake? It has been a good week and to be honest, i relished it like a 5-year-old would savour a popsicle on a torrid afternoon, with glee and gratification. Hell, i even indulged in 3 meals a day complete with desserts the entire week without feeling the least bit guilty. I can't remember the last time i ingested a peanut butter and jelly sandwich nor the reason i swore off carbs, but this i remember, the juxtaposition of peanut butter and jelly between two thick slices of soft white bread and a piping hot mug of coffee, this i've missed. And no, i'm not high on prozac, or alcohol for that matter, in fact, i don't think i've been this sober in months. Who knows how long it'll last this time but i'll bask in it for as long as it does.

Speaking of popsicles, the ice-cream man has been coming around religiously the last couple of weeks, twice a day i'll hear the chiming of his bells, beckoning children and adults alike to his charming little mini van like the Pied Piper of Hamelin, but in a good way. With the school holidays coming to an end, i expect to see less of him around. There is something in the jingle jangle of his bells at certain specified hours of the day that i find reassuring and comforting. My shrink, if i had one would say that i'm lacking in the permanency department and i would probably agree with him. I have no idea why my shrink is a him, but i'm sure there is a good reason why i chose a member of the male species as the quintessential solution to all of my problems. Right, i should probably stop psychoanalysing myself, am no Freud.

Time to hit the sack. Monday. Ughhh. I should have known this faux optimism was short-lived.