you may have noticed that i haven’t exactly been blogging my heart out lately. well, there’s been a couple of things. first of all, i spent a couple of days ‘hospitalized’. that is to say; i was in a crazy ward. second of all there was an aftermath, which i am only just beginning to emerge from.
to help you visualize something of my stay, here is a picture of the FOAM SLIPPERS they gave me for my visit.
i saved them for this show and tell moment, because of course i have to blog about it, and somehow the foam slippers seem to signify something about my stay.
now, if this was a locked down personal kind of a blog you would get all the gory details, or at least a stream of consciousness version of it. but since i have the temerity to categorize and tag my blog with the word ‘humor’ my intention is to keep it light. of course, who knows if i will pull that off, but at least i try to care about you, gentle reader.
obviously, it would be good if i had a fictive bone in my body, because then i could write in a way that would protect the innocent/guilty in public without fearing consequences, whatever those might be, but i am one of those accursed souls who can’t write fiction without sounding like a phoney. a recent twitter conversation about this has led me to realize that i am not alone. and the problem with having a public blog is all the disclosure. or at any rate, all the potential disclosure. it’s a challenge to say enough but not too much. so it is what it is. and what it is is a snapshot, and a little hand in the air and a weak voice crying out “i’m still here! YOO HOO!”
in any case, you have read or seen one flew over the cuckoo’s nest? that.
i’ll be drawing a veil over what led to the visit to the underworld that is a psych ward, and, drugged as i was, this particular veil is actually rather opaque, since my remembered experience of it is at odds with what actually happened, and my memory itself is foggy. however, guess what? when they are assessing you for release they really do ask you what date it is, which i am always a little vague about, and YES they actually do ask you who the prime minister is! such a cliche.
thing is, i don’t listen to, read, or watch the news any more, so pretty much all current affairs come to me through the media of topical news quizzes, twitter, and facebook. so it’s all a bit partial and slanted towards lolcatz. this is fine for everyday life, i do hear about salient topics eventually, and sometimes before people who follow the trad media do, as you doubtless know, my virtual chums. however, in politics in the uk, we currently have some sort of power sharing going on, and now that i am less drugged i can tell you that we have mr cameron and mr clegg at the helm, though it does seem that cameron makes the decisions and is hated, whereas clegg is a powerless puppet man who is satirized as being his lackey. none of this came to me in hospital, though, so i answered the question with a simple yes.
relating this story to a friend i was told a rather more worrying tale about someone who was asked about whether she knew why she was in hospital who also answered ‘yes’ and was released. certainly, she knew why she was in. (it was because of an alien conspiracy, dur.) DUR.
so anyway, i’m on new drugs, and things are swimming into view again. i expect to be somewhat up to normal transmission any time soon.
as you were.