Sense of Imbalance (Chemical)

Found this article today, and thought of me.

I'm not so much manic as just depressive, but I have been called creative. I am fortunate in that I've found a few positive ways in which to manifest my creative side, including my work and my main hobby. (Perhaps) ironically, the "main hobby" is performing improvisational comedy. And I'm decent at it - God made me goofy-looking, so I do a lot of the physical comedy stuff, but for whatever reason God also made me reasonably smart/clever, so I get some quick-witted stuff in there, too. Imagine a straight Oscar Wilde who can do pratfalls all day, and you'll probably be close to my onstage (if not off-stage) persona.

Since I quit smoking, I have (perhaps) ironically not felt all that creative, nor motivated to do much of anything. I've nearly beaten the bonus quests in Jewel Quest III, which I downloaded to have something to do that didn't involve smoking the good stuff, twisting, or other nervous tics and what-have-you. So I kept my hands busy, but nothing to show for it, really.

Meanwhile, entropy continues. My house has a few issues that I should address, my dog has 75% of the legs she had before (although she was mostly using the same 75% about 95% of the time), and my general routine is get up, go to work, get home, sit on the couch, read in bed, eventually fall asleep, and then repeat. So not feeling like a really productive member of society of late.

Lots of great ideas, or at least grandiose ones: redoing my home office in the steampunk aesthetic, obtaining/modding a vehicle of some sort (preferably an International Harvester Scout, but a cool old rat rod would give me a lot to do creatively), building a kegerator, refurbishing the old console radio/record player in the church's youth house to accommodate iPods or at least get rid of the scratchy quality of the speakers/volume controls. Great ideas all, some of which had a start until I quit smoking.

So I guess that's the next challenge - I quit weed, now I need to quit puking and crying about it and get on with the regular stuff that I would normally do. Like all the other normal people out there. But what is normal? I'm not so sure I know, or if "normal" really exists apart from a consensual hallucination of society with the label "average" on it.

Ever onward, through the fog - lately I've been wishing for a return of the purple haze.

SOB - just looked at eBay motors to find a Scout picture, and damn if the one pictured above isn't for sale - like, 10 minutes from where I live. AGAIN. My wife and I seriously discussed bidding on it when it was listed last time. I managed to convince myself it was impractical and moped around for a few days. Now I get to try not to re-live that. Yippee-friggin-shizzle.

And the hits keep coming. Not the "hits of the kind" I'm wishing for right now, either, if you get my strained interpretation of the cliché...