October 31st, 2012 // Happy Halloween
I wake up in the morning feeling groggy. My eye lids are so paper thin that the light from the illuminating numerals of the alarm clock penetrates them. I know I have to raise my weary body to take on the day, but today there has to be a better way to start my gloomy outlook. Maybe I can just lay here in my comatose state and not even start my day to begin with.
But alas, I know my day must begin. Somehow, I have to find my functionality and pull my dead weight up from this bed. I sit-up from my position. The covers roll off my lifeless body. I am so cold and yet I am too tired to pull the covers-up over my cold pale skin in an attempt to warm myself up as I continue to sit in my current place. I moan from the tiredness that ravages my body. I know I need to get the started so I drag my lifeless body of the edge of the bed and make my way towards bathroom.
Upon making it to the bathroom I feel DOA. I’m so zombies, er, I mean zoned out not even coffee is going to help shake me out of my morbid state.
Mindlessly, I enter the bathroom with little care of turning on the bathroom light, it would only be a distraction because I am sensitive to the light. I’ve used this toilet a million times. I assume my aim will hit its intended target. Unfortunately for me the toilet lids down. But what do I care today that there's a slight mess. There's a lot more horrid things going on in this world then just a little bit of misplaced urine.
After my unfortunate incident to pee I attempt to brush my teeth and rid myself of the ghastly plaque build up. But I'm so despondent I don't care on this day. And I go against the agreement of 4 out of 5 doctors recommendations and don't finish brushing, nor do I floss. I don't think a threat of an infection will matter at this point.
I walk out of the bathroom and because I'm dragging my feet I slam my left foot into the door jam. I am so melancholy I do not feel the pain. I just walk with a noticeable limp. My moans can be heard throughout the house. The sound is so eerie the echo sounds like a poltergeist has decided to take up shop in my home and haunt my residence.
I go into the kitchen and without enthusiasm I make myself breakfast. Oatmeal, it's what I am in the mood for in my aberrant mentality. I heat up some water and pour it in my bowl. This is no frill oatmeal, no fruit to lighten the mood. I stir up the gray brain matter, er, I mean particles of oat and wheat add a little sugar and woof it down. The flavor was so good the texture just right it left me craving for more.
I dig up some old clothes that I found buried in the drawers of my dresser. The shirts and pants were weathered and worn out but that’s the style these days. Holes in the knees of the jeans and an old shirt with red paint stains that reminded me of a time that I wore it on my hunt for people...that sold painting supplies.
I limp out my door to face the world and the day. There is a lot of people looking my way. I limp passed them feeling pessimistic about the human race as they gawked at my face. I glance over at the large windowpane that is casting my reflection and what a ghastly sight I saw.
My hair was a mess and the residue of toothpaste outlined my mouth. My shirt was torn and there was little more red paint on it then what I remembered from before. My pants were a more shredded then I intended. The pee stain still evident down my leg. My eyes were bloodshot and my skin pale. I appeared ghoulish and my attitude was grim.
What a day of all days to walk with a limp and moan in pain from my foot along with the tiredness that consumes me. I feel unhealthy and moody but I got out of bed which is half the battle no matter how frightful I appear because I can honestly say of all days today I feel like I’m in a zombie state of mind. So, run away, be afraid when you see me limping your way.
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The Adventures of Captain Imperfecto/Born Again by Christopher P. Fusaro is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License.
Based on a work at christopherfusaro.blogspot.com.
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