Long, Lost Day

Felt as if I was having an out-of-the-body experience today. I felt like a third person watching my life unfold. My concentration is totally lost, thus my lack of updates lately.

"What have you been smoking?" Ferret asked me this afternoon as I was wasting time at the shopping center.

"Nothing," I replied defensively. "I am stone cold sober."

"You are acting as if you are high on pot."

Ferret studied my eyes for the tale tales signs of them being bloodshot. My eyes were as white as the clouds in the sky.

"Something's different about you," he said.

"I quit taking five of my medications," I replied. "It is going to take some time to come down from them. Four to six weeks I read online."

"You know what happens to me when I don't take my meds," Ferret said, looking concerned.

"You usually end up sleeping in a tent down by the river," was my reply. And I was right. Ferret always ends up homeless and his drinking gets exponentially worse.

Ferret and I talked a long time about the side effects of our medications.

"I am tired of feeling flat and lifeless," I said. "I want to feel all my emotions, good and bad."

"Let's just hope the bad doesn't outweigh the good," Ferret replied snarkily.

I am also noticing strange things happening with my body. My sense of smell and taste have improved ten fold. Almost to the point of being overbearing. I can sleep twelve hours a day. I've become a much more emotional creature. My laughing has never been so jovial and felt so good, and my despair has never felt so dark and deep. The pendulum that is my emotive life is swinging long and hard these days.

Riverside

I decided to go fishing today. It was the perfect weather for fishing with overcast skies and temperatures in the lower eighties. I gathered up all my gear in my backpack and a five gallon bucket and walked down to the river to my favorite spot. My fishing license has expired and I just knew if I went up to the lake, a fish and wildlife officer would want to see my license. The secluded spot down at the river is back in the woods across the railroad tracks and the chance of coming across an officer is very slim.

It took me about 45 minutes to walk down there. I noticed the trail was well worn as I walked it. As I walked up through the woods to my spot, I was disappointed to find three elderly black men already there. I was looking forward to a quiet and peaceful afternoon spent fishing alone. I decided to try my luck anyway.

“You fellas mind if I fish here as well?” I asked.

“Ah naw, sit on down and throw out your line,” One fellow said.

All three men had been drinking heavily and the odor of alcohol emanated from them.

I put a night crawler on my hook and lowered it into the water and immediately got a bite. I yanked my pole back up and the bream slipped off the hook taking my bait with him. I repeated the process and within minutes I had a nice size bream in my bucket.

“Maybe we need to be fishin’ with worms,” A fellow said. “We are fishin’ for catfish and ain’t got a bite in over an hour.”

“What are you fishing with?” I asked.

“Chicken livers,” He said as he held up the container.

I hadn’t been fishing down here in months and was dismayed by the amount of trash lying around. Apparently, this secluded spot has become well known and popular with the locals. I saw liquor bottles and beer cans scattered everywhere all around me. It made me sad to see such a sight, as this used to be a great and clean place to come fishing.

Over the next few hours, I managed to catch three more good sized bream. Satisfied with today’s results, I packed up my gear and bid the gentlemen a good afternoon. I headed on home to start the unpleasant task of cleaning four fish and getting them put up in the freezer.

Three catfish for me.......

My fishing went okay yesterday. I kept trying to fish for bream and the little small fingerling fish kept taking my bait. I would curse loudly as I brought up the line devoid of any bait and with a lack of fish. My floater was constantly bobbing up and down in the water as if I had something and it was frustrating. I finally took off the floater and just let the hook and bait sink to the bottom. I ended up catching three good sized catfish.

Cleaning catfish is a chore though. You don't clean them like other fish such as bream or bass. You have to make an incision behind the head and literally peal the skin off with a pair of pliers. Getting the hook out is another story as well as they always tend to swallow it. I know it sounds gross. Sorry! They are in the freezer now for a future fish fry.

I have a new visitor every morning now. A neighbor's cat comes by like clockwork every morning just after 7 AM and we socialize. She got a little plate of tuna this morning. I know I am spoiling her but it is nice to have a cat back in my life. She is sitting atop the desk bathing as I write this. Soon she goes about doing whatever a cat does all day and I will not see her till tomorrow morning.

My ex-wife brought her thirty page thesis for me to proof read yesterday as well. I have the chore of reading through thirty pages of not so interesting material today and tomorrow. I shouldn’t say that as I have read none of it as of yet. I may prove interesting as southern writers usually intrigue me. It is titled, “The Influence of Columbus, Georgia on the Life and Works of Carson McCullers.”

I also have to help her put together a power point presentation and that will be fun. I always enjoyed doing that for the Professors when I worked at the University.

Well, I need to grab a shower and get ready for physical therapy. I dread this so as it has hurt so badly lately. I want to call and cancel and just play hooky. I get tired of the pain and the seemingly slow gains.