prednisone, my personal al-qaeda

i got out of bed today (Thursday) at 11 and lie there, knowing i could not get up.

but i had to babysit, and there wasn't another option. either i'd be picking up the kid or no one would.

i got in the car and got a coffee and donuts for the kids. there's three of them. so i got six donuts. it was cheaper. (no. i wanted a donut because i was hungry so i ate one, the kids ate 3, and then i ate one before bed.)

bad. i know better. i was hungry and deprived of what i wanted which was sugar and to feel nothing.

the day was productive. i shopped. i saw ashley at target. i gasped aloud. i spent too much money.

i haven't gotten tired yet. this scares me. i am out of breath.

it's the prednisone. it makes me so goddamned manic.

all i did was clean when i got home. the bathroom. my bedroom and the living room. i organized everything. i cleared out sadie's old clothes and threw a bunch of old greeting cards away.

i could not throw away the cards i was sent by friends who are now dead. they stay in the box.

my friend lauren died a year and a half ago. the last time i saw her, she gave me her bottle of Dialudid as a parting gift. we joked about it and laughed. i still have the bottle in my bedside table. the pills are long gone.

i am exhausted but sleepless. when i close my eyes and meditate, the prednisone barges in. i hear noises.

i think of the way our voices carry through an empty gymnaisum. i remember summers spent in gyms, playing ball.

i hear the tight tension that unfurls from a mother as she unloads the dishwasher. it is not my mother, nor is it my kitchen. it's just what i hear when i am trying to empty my brain.

they disturb me. so i put the light on and i look at dumb Tinder and i do this.

nothing is scarier than prednisone. nothing makes me feel less like me. the drug is a terrorist.

tomorrow. sadie. maybe the ocean.

still rambling.

still in search of sleep.

still. goodnight.