So I was off Percocet for a while and back on Vicodin. Then I was on nothing. Now I’m baaack on Percocet and going crazy. For some balls out crazy reason, it’s giving me mood swings? Like super mood swings? Take this morning for example. From six to seven I was furious. Like angrier than I’ve been in months. Then from seven to eight I was panicky. Then from eight to eleven I was asleep. Eleven to eleven thirty panicky. Eleven thirty to one asleep. One to two thirty furious. Two thirty to right now sad as fuck.
I knowwwwww mood swings from Percocet are like, not normal. But dudes. I know this is the Percocet. It’s driving me fucking insane. More importantly, it’s driving my mommy and my boy insane. One minute I’m yelling at them because they’re too close to me, or because they called me ugly (ripping an insult out of the jaws of a compliment) and the next I’m crying because I’m so sorry and feel so awful and wahwahwah blahblahblah.
But if I go without the Percocet, I’m a ball of pain and tears and ultimately just as angry and sad. So what the shit.
She started to get dressed distractedly, as if she were alone in the room. I always like to watch her do it, but this time there was a knot in my throat.
Tania bent over, threw her hair over her head and brushed it several times. Some drops of water sprinkled on the carpet. Tania stood up, fixed her hair with her hands, looked at herself in the mirror one more time and sat down next to me.
"I’ll be back in one or two hours," she said.
She looked at me for a few seconds and ran her index finger over my face.
"Good-bye," she said and got up. I grabbed her by the arm.
"We need to talk when you get back," I told her.
She looked at the floor and shook her head.
"It’s not worth it."
"It is to me."
"We have a lot to clear up," I interrupted her.
"Please, I need to," I insisted.
She bit her lips and agreed. She kissed me for a long time and then left. I heard her get into the car and start the engine. Then I head the car door open again. I got up and heard a noise at the door. Tania slipped a piece of paper under the door and then I heard her get back in the car. I looked out the window and managed to see the red Cavalier drive toward the exit.
On the piece of paper, Tania had written: “It’s at the end of the rainbow,/ Where the golden showers are.”
It was a quote from a Bukowski poem, where he writes about a man’s true happiness at being peed on by a baby while he changes his diaper.
On the back of the sheet, Tania had written: “Forgive me for what I did and for what I’m going to do.” And under it: “I love you more than you think.”
Tania was probably right: Why talk, why dwell on a past that couldn’t be avoided? Better to accept the facts and forgive them. Better to forgive than to lose her.
Let’s face it - English is a crazy language. There is no egg in eggplant nor ham in hamburger; neither apple nor pine in pineapple. English muffins weren’t invented in England or French fries in France. Sweetmeats are candies while sweetbreads, which aren’t sweet, are meat. We take English for granted. But if we explore its paradoxes, we find that quicksand can work slowly, boxing rings are square and a guinea pig is neither from Guinea nor is it a pig.
And why is it that writers write but fingers don’t fing, grocers don’t groce and hammers don’t ham? If the plural of tooth is teeth, why isn’t the plural of booth beeth? One goose, 2 geese. So one moose, 2 meese? One index, 2 indices? Doesn’t it seem crazy that you can make amends but not one amend? If you have a bunch of odds and ends and get rid of all but one of them, what do you call it?
If teachers taught, why didn’t preachers praught? If a vegetarian eats vegetables, what does a humanitarian eat? In what language do people recite at a play and play at a recital? Ship by truck and send cargo by ship? Have noses that run and feet that smell? How can a slim chance and a fat chance be the same, while a wise man and a wise guy are opposites?
You have to marvel at the unique lunacy of a language in which your house can burn up as it burns down, in which you fill in a form by filling it out and in which an alarm goes off by going on. English was invented by people, not computers, and it reflects the creativity of the human race (which, of course, isn’t a race at all). That is why, when the stars are out, they are visible, but when the lights are out, they are invisible.