DREAMS AND MELANCHOLY

My face in my hands, eyes blurry, gums sore, neck fatigue. Headache, upper palate itchy, front teeth aching, feeling strained. Chills. Tired, very tired.

Yawning, eyes closing, fingers typing from memory. This is not my best writing, but tonight I don’t care. Wine in my glass going down, down, disappearing. Elijah, where are you? Pass me over, find the matzoh, wish for better days.

My face in my hands, eyes blurry, gums sore, neck fatigue. Headache, upper palate itchy, front teeth aching, feeling strained. Chills. Tired, very tired.

Yawning, eyes closing, fingers typing from memory. This is not my best writing, but tonight I don’t care. Wine in my glass going down, down, disappearing. Elijah, where are you? Pass me over, find the matzo, wish for better days.

A vacation, that’s what I need. Or to go to sleep before midnight. Maybe waking up late will help. Or buying that cranberry bog and putting my old weary body to work. Get some exercise, woman! I think I need physical labor, to work the land. I need to rely only on myself with no one for miles around me. I could make cranberry wine that might put to shame the Beaujolais in my glass. Not too likely, but it is possible.

Do you like the name for my farm? Merrymeet. Merrymeet Organic Farms. Or should I invoke Cape Cod or old Plymouth? Olde Pilgrim Road Bogland Cranberries? Merrymeet Native Cranberry Bogs? Olde Plimouth Organic Farms?

I’m so tired. Must rest. Must think of things other than the real world around me. Must envision a better world, a utopian world filled with organic cranberry wine and chocolate covered cranberries. Wind power and perhaps some solar panels. Why do I get so excited thinking about the wind? A geeky wind freak, that’s me.

I think I’m coming down with a fever. My face feels hot.