Alive. Breathing.

*Somehow, somewhere, along these lines, I've always somehow insisted that I'm surviving. That its a struggle from day to day to fscking day. But no. Not really. I think its just that I can't really be bothered to give a flying fsck anymore.*

 

I'm here at work and again, I'm getting a burst of inspiration to write. Funny how when I actually have moments of time when I can actually write that I'm lost for words but when I'm at work, up to my neck in absolute crap and suddenly, I have these little pockets of time where I feel that I could write a whole essay about what I want to do and what I hope to achieve. One of those things, I reckon. Life's funny that way, isn't it?

 

I'm not making any sense either. I've just read what I've written and I'm thinking to myself, "What the...."

 

Anyway. Moving on.

 

Today feels like a good day. I'm light on my feet and I'm rushing around and I'm again, helping people that I don't feel like helping. I've rushed to do ICU this morning and I've seen several patients and discharged even more.

 

But I'm rocking my bachata in the quiet when no one is around and I feel back on top of the world. The song Freaky Sexy Nasty is pulsing through my veins and I feel very inspired. I might even go home for lunch and dance again. That's how good I feel right now.

 

Its funny how I usually feel like flipping sick at work today but I'm positively buzzing. Probably from the two short blacks I've had this morning. I'm buzzing from caffeine. Damn, I need more of this stuff. My fingers are flying across the keyboard, wheeee! I'm not making sense either. You know, I feel like going to work tomorrow. I want to work the weekend so the following weekend is free for me and Fliss to film the dance routine and get it done.

 

Oh fsck. I'm blogging on a caffeine high. And shit, it feels good. I think I should drink more coffee.....4 teaspoons of bitter grounds, yo!

 

I think I like blogging on Gmail. Its fun and it actually looks like I'm doing some work when I'm actually writing for my own benefit and to hell with whatever happens.

 

I just read a blog about this lady who got fired from her job from something she didn't do and I thought to myself that I could possibly do the same thing. She didn't end up too badly so why should I end up in the lurch if I get the crapper?

 

My dance teacher recently asked me if I was ready to ditch a steady, paying job for the uncertainty but the absolute glory of pursuing a dance career professionally. I'm not sure and to be perfectly honest, I don't know. It scares the shit out of me but in some instances, I can see myself buzzing across the stage, again on the same caffeine high. Dang it, I feel really really good. I've not felt this good for a while. I hope someone hasn't snuck in some ectasy or some hallucinogenic grounded up pills into my coffee because hot damn, I'm on a roll, yo! And I don't care. I don't care at all.

 

I'm probably gonna crash really bad when I get home, aren't I?

 

Yeah. You might hear from me when I'm clutching my head from my caffeine hangover. Bleh.

 

Nights, y'all.