They are haunting me. And when I'm done worrying about them, I'll still have myself to worry about. Because wherever I go, there I am. There I'll be.
Perhaps this terrible disorder is good for something other than tormentive thought processes. The bookeeper left a note on my timecard thanking me for seperating and stacking up all the credit receipts, the debit receipts, the coupons, the recieved rainchecks, the written rainchecks, and the personal checks. "It is a big help :)"
My life can go to hell all around me, but hey my drawer at the drugstore is immaculate. As is the Valentines aisle. I've got all the pink bears facing duesouth and the frilly boxes of chocolates duenorth. The floating candles that declare their love. The candy hearts that say "fax me." If it's late enough at night, I'll sit down crosslegged on the floor to pretend to straighten the cardboard valentines. I'm really just staring sideways at the purple bears, inhaling dust, and trying not cry.
I only get to sell the purple bears to men on Valentines day. I have never received.