Trying to get it right

I should be working. I got jobs screaming at me like a two-year-old tantrum-throwing motherfucker in the supermarket aisle.

Instead I'm one inch away from crying and I hate it.

By the way, I've noticed this default position I adopt when I'm feeling screwed up or just don't know what to do with myself. If I have a table or desk in front of me -- which I do now -- I go into a sort of foetal position. Or the sitting equivalent, anyway. Forearms close together, pressed on the desk edge, body hunched forward, head down and my hands clasping my mouth and nose.

It's a little like Rodin's Thinker, but without the grace and panache. A pensive and decidedly anti-social stance that says Go Away, I'm Thinking Dark Wiggly Neurotic Thoughts. No doubt the Thinker was being more philosophical than neurotic when he adopted that famed pose; but anyway. He sure as hell wasn't humming a Care Bear tune, judging by that frown.

It takes a load of facial muscles to frown. And I should really be conserving my energy for something more useful -- like, say, work. Y'know, the stuff that paid for the quality leather jacket I'm wearing.

But before that, I just need to get this out of my head. Else I'll just fritter away the entire bloody day thinking gloomy foetal thoughts.

~

Sit here on the stairs
'Cause I'd rather be alone
If I can't have you right now, I'll wait
Sometimes I get so tense,
But I can't speed up the time
But you know, there's one more thing to consider

I've been walking these streets at night
Just trying to get it right
It's hard to see with so many around
You know I don't like being stuck in a crowd
And the streets don't change but maybe the name
I ain't got time for the game
'Cause I need you
Well, I need you


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