Golden
Drugs. The Life of Pi, and my life, as I alluded yesterday, have had me in a state of funk.
But the drugs. The Boy(s) called them my mean pills. Or was it angry pill? I can't remember. And not even the point, really. I was only taking them to overcome some serious kick you in the nuts allergy issues. Steroids to be more exact. In those pop them out the back blister packs, x two, because I needed them per my doctor.
"This high of dosage might have side effects." He told me.
"Like what?" I asked.
"Well, they might make you aggressive. Or feel different. They'll certainly make you feel better and get you over the hump."
Angry pills indeed. A friend later told me that they are pretty much a synthetic form of adrenaline. And that he had taken them before. And that they had made him 'bat-shit' crazy.
The first evidence that I was becoming bat-shit crazy came on a Sunday morning coming down. I had went to work out, and then planned to shower and go to church to teach 5th grade Sunday school. When my jumping off point came, time wise, I said, I'm afraid to say, fuck it. And did not go.
A week later, on Easter Sunday in fact, I didn't go.
A week after that, and off the angry pills, but still feeling a bit aggressive, I drug my sorry ass to church and was accosted by a handful of 5th graders.
"Where were you!" One of them asked, with a certain amount of indignation.
"Yeah," said another. "Where were you. You didn't come!"
"I skipped." I said, which funnily enough confused them.
They looked at each other, unsure of what to say to my admission. Finally, one of them, a girl I should add said, "You left us!" And then made a crying kind of noise like she was upset.
Another one chimed in, "Yeah Stuie," which is what most of them call me when their parents aren't around because I abhor being called Mr. Stuart and no one wants to be so formal as to call me Mr. Tinsley, "You left us!"
"Yes." I said. "I skipped. I just told you that."
Again. Confusion.
"You skipped?!?!" A few of them said together.
"Yes. I skipped."
Silence.
"Are you guys really that upset that I skipped?" I asked them.
They all smiled and shook their heads in a way that meant no.
"Exactly. I was away on spring break the first week I missed. The next week I was sick. And the week after that and then last week, Easter actually, I simply skipped."
"You skipped...." they all chimed in again.
"Yes. I skipped," I said again. "How many of you would skip if you could?"
Every hand in the room went up. Including mine, albeit for a high five which never came.
Finally I said, "I could have lied to you guys. Easily. Said I was out of town. Or sick. A lot of things. But I didn't. I told you the truth. Which I would think you'd respect. I know I would. Now. And certainly when I was in 5th grade."
Silence. Again.
As the mulled over what I just said.
"Ok. Let's get started," I said. "Today we're talking about..."
I rambled on for a minute or two about the lesson and what we'd be reading when one of my favorites in the class raised her hand and said, "Stuie, we did that lesson last week."
"Oh," I said. "You're right. Today is April 11th isn't it. I'm on the wrong week."
"Yeah," she said.
I gave them all a serious look and said, "You know I would have known that if I hadn't skipped."
Until I BLOG again...And on heaven's golden shore we'll lay our heads.
But the drugs. The Boy(s) called them my mean pills. Or was it angry pill? I can't remember. And not even the point, really. I was only taking them to overcome some serious kick you in the nuts allergy issues. Steroids to be more exact. In those pop them out the back blister packs, x two, because I needed them per my doctor.
"This high of dosage might have side effects." He told me.
"Like what?" I asked.
"Well, they might make you aggressive. Or feel different. They'll certainly make you feel better and get you over the hump."
Angry pills indeed. A friend later told me that they are pretty much a synthetic form of adrenaline. And that he had taken them before. And that they had made him 'bat-shit' crazy.
The first evidence that I was becoming bat-shit crazy came on a Sunday morning coming down. I had went to work out, and then planned to shower and go to church to teach 5th grade Sunday school. When my jumping off point came, time wise, I said, I'm afraid to say, fuck it. And did not go.
A week later, on Easter Sunday in fact, I didn't go.
A week after that, and off the angry pills, but still feeling a bit aggressive, I drug my sorry ass to church and was accosted by a handful of 5th graders.
"Where were you!" One of them asked, with a certain amount of indignation.
"Yeah," said another. "Where were you. You didn't come!"
"I skipped." I said, which funnily enough confused them.
They looked at each other, unsure of what to say to my admission. Finally, one of them, a girl I should add said, "You left us!" And then made a crying kind of noise like she was upset.
Another one chimed in, "Yeah Stuie," which is what most of them call me when their parents aren't around because I abhor being called Mr. Stuart and no one wants to be so formal as to call me Mr. Tinsley, "You left us!"
"Yes." I said. "I skipped. I just told you that."
Again. Confusion.
"You skipped?!?!" A few of them said together.
"Yes. I skipped."
Silence.
"Are you guys really that upset that I skipped?" I asked them.
They all smiled and shook their heads in a way that meant no.
"Exactly. I was away on spring break the first week I missed. The next week I was sick. And the week after that and then last week, Easter actually, I simply skipped."
"You skipped...." they all chimed in again.
"Yes. I skipped," I said again. "How many of you would skip if you could?"
Every hand in the room went up. Including mine, albeit for a high five which never came.
Finally I said, "I could have lied to you guys. Easily. Said I was out of town. Or sick. A lot of things. But I didn't. I told you the truth. Which I would think you'd respect. I know I would. Now. And certainly when I was in 5th grade."
Silence. Again.
As the mulled over what I just said.
"Ok. Let's get started," I said. "Today we're talking about..."
I rambled on for a minute or two about the lesson and what we'd be reading when one of my favorites in the class raised her hand and said, "Stuie, we did that lesson last week."
"Oh," I said. "You're right. Today is April 11th isn't it. I'm on the wrong week."
"Yeah," she said.
I gave them all a serious look and said, "You know I would have known that if I hadn't skipped."
Until I BLOG again...And on heaven's golden shore we'll lay our heads.
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