Robot

Racing to the bar at lunchtime for a wine and piece and quiet. The wine tastes as good as that first sip of coke, except better. Day -time wines have the amazing effect of turning the remainder of the day into a blur. The pills help but the frustration of the calm they bring can be painful.

They make me reevaluate. Before the pills I would work hard all day at my job, race to the shops for dinner ingredients, head home and make dinner feeling guilty that I didn’t go to gym but hoping that an effort filled meal would justify my laziness. I would stress the small stuff, pretend to have a shower but really claw at my chest trying to get the jailed psychopath out of her cell. She was trying to make me see that I was just a woman, locked up in a folder labeled ‘Good Citizen”

Is that what I am, a good citizen? So are all the other “good citizens” racing around their world working hard, paying bills, over compensating for their insecurities? We are all just doing the same thing. We are all dancing the robot and taking the pills to stay oiled.

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