"Play For Today"-The Cure
It's not a case of doing what's right
It's just the way I feel that matters
Tell me I'm wrong
I don't really care
It's just the way I feel that matters
Tell me I'm wrong
I don't really care
It's not a case of share and share alike
I take what I require
I don't understand …
You say it's not fair
You expect me to act
Like a lover
Consider my moves
And deserve the reward
To hold you in my arms
And wait
And wait
And wait
For something to happen
It's not a case of telling the truth
Some lines just fit the situation
Call me a liar
You would anyway
It's not a case of aiming to please
You know you're always crying
It's just your part
In the play for today
It feels as though I'm turning back into this awkward teenager. I can't get myself to hold eye contact for more than a milisecond at a time and I'm constantly tripping over things. I can't sit in a chair without squirming either (actually, sometimes that's just my back spasming) and I miss what's going on right in my view–it's like tunnel vision or something.
I was quite the hypochondriac in my teens. Some days I was sure I was schizophrenic or bi-polar. Other days I was convinced I had a brain tumor.
These days I'm worried about my heart, my liver, my kidnies, dandruff, my teeth falling out, my thyroid, whether or not I'm going to get diabetes or whether or not that weird popping in my ear is a spider that's nested in my ear canal (SERIOUSLY–I read an article where that happened to an 8 y/o boy). I even asked DH (who is completely bald) whether or not my hair seemed to be thinning.
Here's my reenactment of our conversation in bed last night.
Me: You make a better bald person than me–I can't grow a goatee to balance it out. Will you still love me when I'm bald?
(Pause…)
DH: Well, if I can love you when you say crazy things like that, I think I can love you bald.
(Pause…)
Me: What are you saying, I'm crazy?
DH: Yeah.
Me: Okay then.
(Cue LAUGH TRACK and fade out.)
