Maudlin Rambling

More jibber...

--- More about drugs (and the arrival of a fictitious Editor - Ed.)

I said in a comment a while back that I had taken a few liberties with the timeline of events herein. Allow me to elaborate. While I am writing this now, some of this had been going on awhile. It may appear more immediate than it really is. I'm actually regretting bringing the whole thing up, but it is something that gives cause for concern. (No shit, Shroomy - Ed.)
I know a little about drugs from personal experience - booze and fags (and coffee, I guess) being my poisons of choice, so I feel like I know a little about the addiction that makes them so ruinous. Medicine is renowned for being stressful, and some medics almost wear it as a badge of pride. Mostly the more macho end of the spectrum, but you get the idea.
Nonetheless, what is less braggable about, whatever your frame of reference, are the accompanying high rates of substance abuse and dependence that stress seems to generate. It doesn't help that it's so damn easy to, for example, divert narcotics. (I've borrowed that phrase. I hope that's ok, and I hope you don't feel I'm making light of this. I've already touched on the damage booze inflicted on a good friend of the Shroom)
In this specific case, I think my first draft of the post in which I started this was written badly. But I am concerned about a colleague. I've spoken with X, and there is a lot more going on than I thought. In a very real way, it's none of my business, and I hope people will understand if I don't elaborate further. In another very real way, it is my business. We have to look out for each other, right? If the Shroom was in trouble, he'd want to know folks were looking out for him. I have gained some reassurance that drugs do not lie behind what was worrying me. I hope I'm as right this time, as I was wrong before. I'm sure we've all seen how easy it is for something to spiral out of control, and end up the dominant, destructive force in a life.

Drugs are bad, m'kay?

---A bit more maudlin navel gazing.

I occasionally find myself contemplating my place in the world, and who I'm sharing it with. Which is no-one right now. This is fine by me, most of the time. A fella's gotta be happy in his own company, right? Well, maybe, but just at the mo' I'm lonelier than usual. In my first (draft) post about getting yer ya-ya's out, it was this I was referring to, crudely, when I wrote that I wasn't getting any. (Classy - Ed.). Not the drugs (still classy - Ed.), in case you were thinking I'm more degenerate than you had at first guessed. I'm still fighting off the nicotine, and can do without another addiction, thanks.

So, I'm footloose and fancy-free, but a bit miserable with it. But I could probably get my ya-ya's out, at a push.
Well, today, I set out to rectify the situation. The Shroom has been sweet on one of his colleagues for a while; we don't work together all that much, the shift system being what it is, but we were on together today. Now was my chance! Those who know the Shroom will not be surprised to discover that he deployed his usual charm , and flailed about, failing to broach the subject at all. However, I did find out my mission was a lost cause, after she'd gone home for the day, by discovering she's already seeing someone. I'm fairly certain I managed this clumsily enough that she will already know I was asking about her.
So: to summarise, no date, and I managed to make myself look clumsy and gauche. (Result! - Ed.)

--- Final minutiae of The Shroom
You can see what I'm listening to, so to complete your multimedia profile, I'm reading Redcoats by Richard Holmes. If you're so inclined, you can pretend to be in my head.

I'm not sure I recommend it right now.