The bathtub is half full; hot, with oil, smelling of mangoes. A glass of spirits (limoncello as it happens – can't quite do the cliché of a whiskey, not the kind of thing I drink – and that tells you something about me).
Today I had to call around to the HIV patient group to get some of them to come to a class, to a public presentation; lots of dates and schedules and yeses and semi-nos. Easy enough, used to do it all the time (since I don't run the group any more, it's about five months since I've done this). In speaking to one of the guys, and doing the so-how-are-you thing, he said he has changed meds – and when he changed them he had a major problem with anger for a couple of weeks. I said, possibly rather invasively, or (translated into UK English) impertinently: well, since Efavirenz tends to release a lot of feeling, does that mean you'd been holding in a lot of anger for a long time? He didn't know.
Lately I've been getting a bit of exercise, waking up a bit, perhaps I'm not quite as out of it as I have been for a long time: the body moving again. It's sort of like waking up, on a broader and vaguer scale: stuff moves, stuff shows up. For me, some anger, but tonight it's sadness: every fragment of various television shows that leads in that direction lands on me, as though it was aimed specifically at me. Perhaps best for my mood was one final episode of Gray's Anatomy, which I love anyway (and that also tells you something about me – probably the same thing, come to think of it). And the line that falls into my memory and resonates, as somebody comes into the bar, to someone they barely know: "You look sad."
The bathtub is half full; hot, with oil. A glass of spirits....
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