~alice-anesthetic

I get up. Its raining
Theres a dead bird outside my window. Hoo-ray.
its late morning, I don’t know why but I always like getting up before 10 otherwise I feel as though ive wasted the morning.
Its 11.30.
I go upstairs and find a cookie recipe. I start making them, It gives me time to think as well as just follow a method as apposed to having to create something new.
Once they’re in the oven I start washing the dishes. I ask my sister to help dry them,
Exact conversation
‘ kate could you please dry these dishes?’
‘but I didn’t make the cookies’
‘I know but you’re going to eat them right?’
‘yeah, so?’
So I do the dishes myself, more time to think.
De-bo-rah Mom tells me that she’s put the dead bird in the garden bin.
. I go outside to the bin and look in it to try and get the bird out and put it somewhere nicer. I open the bin and have to peer into the darkness of it as It is practically empty and its quite big. I can’t see a thing. I find it kind of depressing really, a bird that’s used to flying around free, is now enclosed between four artificial walls on a grave of leaves.
Maybe it’s the rain that’s making me feel down. Quite possibly.
The timer on the oven goes off telling me the cookies are done. I take them out and they look good. I feel happy. Once they have cooled slightly, but not completely I eat one and take another two, one for De-bo-rah Mom and one for my sister.
When I offer De-bo-rah Mom a cookie, she looks at me like I’ve just asked her to rip off my hand and eat it, she declines the cookie. My sister does the same. So I take them back and then move the lot onto a cooling rack. De-bo-rah Mom comes into the kitchen and helps herself to some little cookies from a packet in the pantry.
I don’t get it.
There are some really nice warm chocolate chip cookies sitting on the bench but she’d rather eat cold artificial packet cookies.
When I ask her she just goes ‘I know’ and stands there eating them.
My family is confusing.
I think it’s the rain.
So now I’m sitting on my bed, head by the window looking at the rain dripping from the windowsill. I want someone to come and wrap their arms around me and just sit here with me. Just having the comfort of someone here would be nice.
But its just me. I flick through my itunes library till I find The Used and Bert begins to croon his poignant lyrics into my ears. I find their music pretty much the soundtrack to my life.
I hate feeling like this. It’s a mix of hoplessness, sadness, confusion and a whole bunch of other crap. I want to feel better but my mood of the day appears to have already been set.

It’s definitely the rain.