Anxiety · Personal

Zombies Don’t Take Showers

Okay, so, five minutes ago it was 10 am… and now it’s 5:17 pm? Where in the world did Monday just go?

I walked around aimlessly like a zombie for a lot of the day, but I would assume that would make the day go slower, right?
The only reason I made the association with zombies is because my partner has been playing a zombie game non-stop lately. He believes it’s only a matter of time before the world is covered in a weird virus that for some reason enhances the body while killing it… seems to be a bit of an oxymoron, really..

I mean, think about it. It’s a virus that causes zombie wounds NOT to heal (I’m talking about the wounds zombies have, not a bite or scratch from a zombie) yet keeps them in peak physical alertness and alive to, what, eat flesh? What would be the evolutionary advantage to that? You’re a zombie that’s lost pretty much all your limbs but you’re still alive to eat human brains? You could argue it’s just to pass on the zombie virus to another host, but what happens when there are NO UNINFECTED PEOPLE LEFT?! Guess what, zombies, you’ve just effectively killed yourself off.

***

So I’m sort of sick of everything in my life at the moment. Sick of food, sick of where I live, sick of my relationship – not because there is anything bad with any of those things… I’ve merely, as Austin Powers would say, “lost my Mojo.” It’s terrible! I don’t feel passionate about the things I’m passionate about… I’ve slipped into another “meh” coma and I have no idea how to wake myself up from it. The usual things, like music, singing, dancing, my pets, watching a funny show, ALL that good stuff, is doing absolutely nothing. I’m not saying this to be gross or anything, but I haven’t had a proper shower (where I wash my hair) for at least 4 days. FOUR DAYS! That’s insane! I even see the insanity… but I cannot bring myself to shower.

Depressed?

Well, perhaps.

Perhaps I haven’t been getting enough sunlight in these dreary Australian winter days (yes, they do exist, unfortunately.)

I can feel my heart beating when I sit quietly at my desk and it sort of makes me feel a sense of urgency. Live-Life. Live-Life. Live-Life. Even though I don’t feel in the least bit ready. It’s funny how something as insignificant as the possibility of a panic attack has the ability to ruin the scope of your imagination.

All I’ve managed to figure out today is that if you are a zombie, you definitely don’t take showers.

 

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