I knew something was wrong when I took a step and missed the planet. The feeling was pretty much confirmed when the woolies basket I was holding collided with the aisle wall. I couldn’t break in time; I ran straight into the back of it.
I was having an off morning. My first order of business was taking my anti-depressants. I’d run out a few days ago so I popped a couple of Ibuprofen to head off the impending back tension.
It only took half an hour for my back to be in knots. The cocktail of budget computer chair and restless nights of wrestling old demons had been getting the better of me lately. I took a couple of Ibuprofen to fix it.
Naomi rolled out of bed and asked if I could head down to wollies for some supplies. She place a $20 note on the desk. No problem, I took a couple of Ibuprofen just in case. She reminded me to get some more of my anti-depressants.
The walk to the chemist was a bit of a blur. I’m sure I spent most of it thinking of something deep, or was I just concentrating on that niggling tension in my back? Either way, I stressed about looking like a junkie in front of the chemist, I was tired, slightly incoherent and wearing crocs and a blue bonds singlet. She looked at me like I was a junkie. I’m pretty sure I was wearing pants.
I fumbled the medication into my bag and headed for woolies where I picked up 3 litres of Aloe Vera drink. I also bought some scones that Naomi had wanted. I completely forgot to go to Harvey Norman to check up on when our fridge was supposed to be delivered today.
The walk home was filled with thoughts of getting back onto my anti-depressants. The last week had been fairly painful without them. I don’t drink, I don’t smoke and I don’t look at porn, there was very little but sheer luck keeping me sane over the christmas period. Sheer luck and roughly a dozen Ibuprofen every day for the headaches.
The stairs to my apartment winded me slightly. This was only really a problem when I opened my bag and couldn’t find my medication. I looked in every possible pocket in my bag, in my pockets, even elsewhere in the apartment. I remembered fumbling it into my bag. It must have fallen out at some point.
Naomi had to watch as I collapsed on the bed and rode the fence between sleep and weeping.
It’s all okay now. Naomi took me up to the chemist to get some more anti-depressants, not that they should have kicked in yet. I think it’s just the idea that things would be going uphill over the next few days that turned me around.
The shocking lack of coordination that I experience with too much Ibuprofen will fade soon. The fridge will arrive eventually. My back will hold out.
So tell me, what is the opposite of expression?
