Back in The Space Pod

The truth of the matter is that I've grown photo- sensitive.

Yeah, that's right, I'm sensitive to the light. I live in a dark room for most of the time.  A woman once said of my room that it lacked light. She NEEDED light, NEEDED space. She no doubt felt confined in my room. I smile at the thought of it, because for the longest time I called my room the Space Pod. Just a small capsule with a life support system, main computer, food area and sleep area...that is all.



There is no recreation area, there are no large windows to let in ample light. There's no living- room, no bathroom, no bedroom, no kitchen. It's a single solitary cell for a single solitary man. I personally love it, and I keep the lights off to make it feel cozy. However, that's what I thought. I keep the lights off to escape the light. Many of my medications warn of overexposure to the light, and I'm certain that's for people who are interested in suntanning, but I avoid the light whenever possible.



So, think how I felt having to get dressed and go outside of my space pod and deal with the brightly lit world outside? I got dressed reluctantly and stepped out into the well lit hallway and then downstairs and outside to a snow bound city. Yeah, snow is still piled up on the sidewalks and on cars and the shit is glowing white. The sun striking snow is the most annoying device known to nature. It smarts the eyes and makes them tear. I want to buy a pair of sunglasses but instead I have to head to my cable company several blocks away, amongst the mass of humankind, to pay for my Internet. A once a month chore. Something I detest. I love to shop now, because I only go once a month. I got my medications down to where I only have to do that once a month.



My grand plan? To have only ONE DAY that I can do everything. Get my meds, see my doctors, do food shopping and pay my Internet bill and be done with the world for the other 29 days. I would love that plan. I call it the Grand Unification Event. I'll get it right one day. The hardest part is the meds. I've got those just right and when I do....BAM! You'll only see my ass outside once a month instead of five. The funny thing is that when I was in the poetry circuit I was out much, much more. I had to go out. Not that I hated it, mind you. I loved the circuit and would like to return to it, but the thing is that I hate being outside among people.



I hate it. It changes my mood the instant that it has to be done. It makes me want to pull the hairs out of my head, which, I must admit, looks like it belongs to someone insane as is. I've regrown my beard and my hair is a mess. I had to put a blanket on my bed because of the cold, and the fucking thing sheds. It sheds on my clothes and in my hair. It drives me mad. I'm pulling shedded blanket from my beard and mustache when I step outside. Remember, I have to go down the hall to use the bathroom mirror. I need one in my room, but I haven't yet decided what kind I want.



I pay my Internet bill, then go food shopping for some light eats. I waddle my fat ass to a five and ten cent store to get a new belt since my fat ass snapped my last one in two. Well, pulling on it did, but it's because I've gotten fatter. Shit. I plop down four dollars for a new belt and bring it upstairs. After unpacking the food and getting everything put away I put the belt around my waist and it falls WAY short of coming together. WHAT?  What did I get? Small? I look at the size. It says LARGE. What? Large? What? I'm stunned. I'm Xtra Large now? Probably Xtra Extra Large. How did I let myself get this far? Well, I'm more active in the summer anyway, and tend to lose weight then. I'll get back into the swing of things when the thaw hits, and the snow is gone.



When the thaw hits, and the snow has finally found a new home. Then I'll get back to moving about once more. I hate being fat.

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