Sunday, July 19, 2009

At Least There Aren't Any Elephants

I took a bit too much of a newer supplement yesterday morning and by 'a bit too much' I do mean at least half again on top of the recommended dosage. The purpose of the supplement, at least in the amount I'm supposed to take it in, is that of anxiety reduction. However, in the amount I did take it in it's effect is more that of a slight high. (Stupid powdered meds.)
Thus I spent most of yesterday doing what I usually do when something psycho-active finds it's way into my diet; feeling sleepy, smiling ridgedly, giggling far too much, and wishing that it would go away soon.
I know a lot of people would ask me to clarify that last sentence, as at least 80% of the people I know quite look forward to their time with mood altering stimulants or depressants, whether their drug of choice is a night out with alcohol, a long day with a more illicit drug, or simply a spare moment with caffeine.
There are many things I think about in any given day, but whenever I'm in an particularly unnaturally mood, eventually I always seem to wonder, "Why in the name of deep fried frog lips, do people do this on purpose?"
Unlike most of my fellow humanoids, I've never been terribly fond of the 'floaty, floaty, dream-time' quality of downers, nor am I enthralled over the over intense 'DUDE! Is that my hand?' effect I get from uppers and I wouldn't take anxiolytics if it were not for the overly consuming doubt and my certainty that one day, one of those people who like to hug me from behind are going to end up in a 'Jessie had a bad day' induced neck brace.
I prefer reality to stay just the way it is,

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