I'm listening to U2's first record, "Boy". Wow, does it take me back. Mostly to a time I don't want to remember. The years leading up to my going completely crazy. Bono was with me on that entire journey. Snuck to me by way of dubbed tape. I wasn't allowed to buy my own music because of some crazed fad over new wave being intrinsically evil to the mormons. So my friends, who mostly spent their money on new music, would make me tapes for me and I could hide them easily and listen to them on my cheap walkman thing.
I would listen and spend hours writing crazed love letters, tomes of them. That's why I wish I could have them back. They hold the key to me going mad. In those pages, if they still exist, tell the story of the change that made me what I am.
"In the shadows, boy meets man."
It's strange how you can not think of a song for decades and as soon as it starts to play, you remember all of it, all of a sudden. I'm not getting that with this, it's too far back into the unreachable place. But as I progress through the albums, I'm sure it will come.
Boomer spent even more time out and about the house today. We're encouraging her to fight back when Teeny starts with her. Teeny is just mad that Boomer won't play with her. So she hisses at her and follows her around, being an annoying little sister. Boomer is having none of it.
Doc worked overtime today. He makes an obscene amount of money when he does that. Which is nice this time of year. Also, it gets him away from me. Which for some reason he needs. He can't stand me lately. "I can't stand you when you're like this, go outside and smoke, go on, fuck off," is something I hear from him a lot lately. Not very Xmasy. I'm too negative. I'm not using enough words. I'm breathing too loud. The look on my face is freaking him out. I'm taking too long to explain something. I didn't include the backstory in what I was saying. I need to blow my nose. I'm still breathing weird. I'm lazy. I'm manipulative. I'm so sick of hearing about me!