Today is a wonky kind of day. Everything feels out of order and out of joint, like nothing is aligning as smoothly as I would like and the only place that will feel even remotely comfortable or right is either my recliner or my bed. I am seeking cushions and warmth and blankets so that I can curl up into a ball and let my kids watch television while I read or play computer games or attempt to write.
Instead, I am sitting at my desk, taking a break from grading and planning, and just feeling wonky. My stomach is curdling in knots and the angles of my body seem to be disjointed against the smooth planes of the Earth.
I hate these kinds of days. There’s nothing wrong with me but everything feels wrong and I just want to hide but nowhere really feels like a good “bolt hole” except places where the world can find me. It doesn’t help that it’s cold and raining outside and even my car would offer no solace because as much as I am learning to love Pat’s-City, I don’t love it enough yet to call it home or find solace in stretches of streets that lead to nowhere but mental peace and stability.
I am not depressed, upset, unhappy. I am not happy or enthusiastic or excited. I am a bit blase without feeling like moral entropy or apathetic.
I’m just wonky.
What a delightful word. I’m not even certain if I am using it correctly, but just saying that this is how I feel lifts my spirits and makes me mentally smile. It’s a good sounding word.
Between the softness of the w and the o to the hard c sound in the k and the way my tongue ricochets off the roof of my mouth to the hard eeee sound which allows the emotions to escape from behind the cages of my teeth, I am soothed by this word.
I feel wonky. I feel out of joint and mildly out of sorts.
Maybe it doesn’t help that I’m gassy and it’s rude and stinky to just explode (yeah, gross image…but, hey…it’s biology and if you are reading this then you have chosen to read this so….). Maybe it doesn’t help that, right now, I feel like Bill the Cat from Bloom County, just hairy and blowing raspberries and likely having hairballs in my throat (ACK!).
Wonky-feeling days are hard as an adult. I can’t regress and stick out my tongue and hide in my recliner with a blanket wrapped around me while I escape into a cerebral-coma until the wonkiness evaporates and I can resume normal life. I have to be my usual perky self and stand in front of my students and smile and giggle while behavior that I can normally ignore is grating on my wonky nerves that are standing three inches outside of my skin.
Excuse me while I push my veins and nerve endings back under the surface. Don’t mind me. It’s not you. It’s all me.
Today is the day when greasy foods and chocolate and ice cream would help soothe the wonky beast. However, my stomach (remember, Mount Internal Vesuvius) is not happy with much of anything that I put in my belly unless it’s water, fruit, vegetables, and maybe Cheerios.
No, I’m not pregnant. Not funny…so not funny. I’m merely wonky.
That’s it! I’m OUT OF ORDER. I wish I could take a wonky-sick day. That would be lovely. Only, then I would be wonky in my recliner with that stupid blanket wrapped around my wonky belly.
No cure for wonkiness.
Sucks to be me.
Today is a grit my teeth and bear it kind of day because I am the one who is out of order while everyone else is swimming happily in their streams of life. I can’t shout, scream, or curse that the water is throwing me off balance and that my tail fins resemble anchors. Because this is merely an emotional illusion.
I am in the wonky-Matrix. And no matter what color pills you give me, they won’t wake me up or Alice or the Mad Hatter who might be the cause of this wonkiness.
No…it’s not his fault either. Or the side of the bed on which I slept last night.
Maybe I should blame it on the rain….ooops…can’t channel my inner Milli-Vanilli…that’s just cheating. I have to take credit for my wonkiness, as I have already asserted. Besides, I don’t look good in dreads and I’m terrible at lip synching.