Sealed with a kiss

I have been sick for more than a week – yuck. I dislike being sick wrapped up in that cocoon of helplessness. I still have to work feeling cranky, worn out and disoriented. Such is life when you live in the real world. Where is my Utopia? I believe it fell off the earth a long time ago when the earth was flat like a Frisbee but now it has turned into a giant beach ball shape. I live in the sun and fun state without any fun at the moment.

My chest creaks like an old barn door, my eyes are a runny mass of a melting creamsicle without the stick, my lips have craters the size of the Grand Canyon, my nose drips like the faucet out by the shed and my power of thinking has short circuited. My body, my hand controls and my mind are unsynced and living separate lives. I’m a mess – just a mess.

My actions are slightly bent to the left with my almost non functioning body parts on a holiday. So here I am sitting in this defunct body trying to do basic skills. Oh the nose drips, oh the dry skin curling my downturned lips – I need a tissue for the drips and a softening agent for my pucker. Without revving up the slow brain to half speed I open my drawer and grab the lip balm and give my sore cracked lips a double whammy smear to soothe the pain.

Has anyone ever noticed the similarities between a lip balm dispenser and a glue stick? Apparently I have never noticed this similarity. FYI – glue sticks were never meant to be used as lip balm. At times I wonder in amazement that I have made it thus far in life. My coughing has decreased only because my lips have been sealed shut.

Dance of the sugar plum fairy

Visions of sugar plums danced in their heads. A phrase with romance dripping from every consonant sound and adventure wrapped up in every vowel sound. A visual memory combining a graceful ballet dancer with Humpty Dumpty falling off the wall sends my senses slip sliding away. You know the nearer your destination, the more you slip sliding away. Thank you Paul for your weaving of melodious words. Words and visual images cast upon my wild imagination rocking gently against the high seas.

What exactly is a sugar plum? A plum is a plum is a plumb but dare tell what is a sugar plum? Is it a distant relative to the sour plum? Is it a plain Jane plumb soaked in honey and liquor? Or is it a FIG ment of my imagination? Is a fig related to a plum? Have I gone plumb loco?

The image of a dried up old fig drenched in sugar does little for my creative imagination. Who in their right mind would dream about dried up figs dancing around inside the realm of darkness. My weary brain, my sleep deprivation and the revolution going on inside my lungs drains every last droplet of energy I possess.

Rough day on the high seas and the mind cannot - will not shut down and drift away to dreamland or at least to the REM sleep world. Where mostly pleasant vivid colorful dreams fill my mind space and wash away the day’s disasters. If only I could close my baby blues and rests them on a huge white puffy cumulus cloud and slip away to the land of opportunity. To a place where rainbows sprinkle color onto thoughts and music lets the mind slip slide away and visions of sugar plums dance inside my head.

Stop – wait! No, No! A sugar plum is not my vision. I see a bright red strawberry swimming in creamy Godiva chocolate dancing before my eyes that are tempting me into dreamland. The nearer the destination the more you slip slide away right into a chocolate fountain. Take me away to a better place, take me away and sugar coat my dreams.