Fall Down, Go Boom

I felt like a terminally ill kid, hospitalized and bedridden on the first day of summer. Outside, on a beautiful Sunday afternoon, all of my friends were out playing, and there I was, stuck in bed, struck with the plague.

And really hurting. Not so much due to the illness. More so because I wanted to be outside frolicking away on the almost-summer day.

I missed paint-balling. I just could not muster up the strength to go. I missed the kickball game, one of the cool things about this town in summer, the local businesses all organizing a huge kickball tournament. I missed not one, but two barbecues, and numerous beers with friends later at the bar. I missed a chance to hang out with a girl. I missed everything!

Somebody call the whaaa-bulance. I unashamedly was pouting to my roommate all day long, demanding she get me Chinese food. Which she did. Thank you, by the by. It saved my life.
And then I smoked a lot of herbal remedy, ahem, and I mean a lot, cause I had nothing better to do, and watched probably eight episodes of Battlestar Galactica. And hacked up and snotted out more goo than I care to describe, because its gross, and I wish I knew where all that gunk comes from.

Actually I don't want to know.

And then I had delirious fever dreams about having a son, and I had to protect him from strange mutant creatures that had freeze rays that would literally freeze parts of my body, and it felt real and hurt, and I woke up all crazy-like.

The weirdest thing about the dream was the feeling I had, of hugging my boy, and feeling such vivid emotion about it.

I've considered children, but I'm leaning more towards the "not for me" category. But it made me think about it.

Actually what made me think about it the most, was watching S.'s father Stanley at S. and B.'s wedding. It was the look on his face, the smiles all around, as he said how proud of his son he was... I felt funny for a little time after that, thinking about it. About having kids one day, thinking I could possibly do it. How I want to drink a beer with my kid(s) when they're all grown up and living their own lives, see their weddings, their pitfalls, their lives...

But there's so much I'm afraid of, mainly this world we live in now. How not safe it is, how much scary shit is out there. About how I would probably screw my kid up in many of the ways I feel like my parent's did me. Then again, I think most, if not all, people are screwed up in some ways.

Shudders. Whoa, being sick brings out some weird thoughts.

...

Anyway, I'm tired and full of goo. But I'm still going to go out tonight, because I just can't resist Monday nights, and I don't actually feel all that bad right now.

And I love beer. And I love this song

I sing it to myself as I walk to the The Bar.

And I like to watch people fall down, go boom.