way too much lacking

I have been feeling feisty, too. Want to sit down on the floor in the middle of all this waste and dirt and boxes bulging at the seams and let out a stream of invective. I found an old bamboo flute and I almost broke it over my knee. I mainlined a bag of goldfish crackers and didn't care that the crumbs were getting all over. I bought the expensive birthday card although god knows it's just a farce. I am close, so close, to (just out of misplaced daydreaming) grabbing my sleeping bag and using my new apartment key (the only one that works--the other two I had made this evening must have been put into the machine upside down by the elderly guy at the counter, because they're mirror images instead of copies and this is irritating) and sleeping out on the desolate new carpet in the echoey, blank slate that doesn't at all feel like home (what does? All I can think of is the way the back porch used to feel under my back at the house I lived in downtown a few years ago, and how--the only place in my life I did this--I used to lie down on the smooth planks and look up at the trees and press the phone to my ear every night). I have to leave the house early in the morning again tomorrow, I have to go to offices downtown and I have to get these damn keys sorted and I have to fill out forms and change addresses and pick up a recycling bin. I will want to come back and sleep. But I have to do SOMETHING with all this excess. The truth is, I need a day of detox--I'm flooding my system with salt and bitterness. I am feeling dirty and thick and unlovely, and I'm sorry, but I do forget, I FORGET what it's like to be held and be beheld as good. Right now I am not.