Totally Inappropriate Salted Humour Day: Knock Knock

“Knock Knock”; ‘Pete And Brian

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I ain’t got nothing on my plate
Please let me sleep in late
No catfish biting at my bait
Please let me sleep in late

Feel like I’m standing at St. Peter’s gates
Please let me sleep in late
Don’t know the time, I don’t know the date
Please let me sleep in late

Gonna lay right down here in my cozy bed
Well I might be dreaming, you know
I might be dead

Don’t have to worry ’bout gaining weight
Please let me sleep in late
I ain’t time for love and hate
Please let me sleep in late

For when the sun begins to rise
I don’t want to see it through my tired eyes.

Don’t have to worry ’bout gaining weight
Please let me sleep in late
I ain’t got nothing on my plate
Please let me sleep in late
Don’t know the time, or the date
Please let me sleep in late

“Sleep In Late”, ‘Hit And Run'; Big Sugar (2003)

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Depression does not have to be depressing… well, okay, yes it does. Depression is always depressing. That’s why they call it depression. I’m not sure why I didn’t see that before I started. I don’t usually post on weekends — and technically wouldn’t be posting today (Saturday) but WordPress (normally as reliable an Internet service there ever was) had a meltdown last night — however, just before that happened I had the idea of posting something funny or interesting on Friday evenings just to keep myself and “others” amused until the week started again.

Sigh… the first version of this, which I lost due to the WP Meltdown, was a lot funnier. The second version wasn’t too bad… the third version was a hate fuelled rant that’s probably better off being chewed up like it was. The fourth was just 854 random letters, numbers and symbols… the fifth was mostly the same as the fourth, only in “all caps”. Six was the letter “D” 4021 times with two spaces between each “D”. Seven I did with my eyes closed, so I’m not sure about seven. Eight and nine were actually quite philosophical but contrary and cancelled each other out. Ten was a business plan for a blog hosting site based entirely on the idea that when there was an outage of some kind the people using the service received an email saying the service is down, then another when the service is back up… and you’re reading number twelve.

If you had been able to read number eleven it was a pretty good argument in favour of humour as a tool in our recovery from manic depression… it was also a pretty decent recipe for meatloaf.

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...thanks.

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About Gabriel...

...diagnosed with manic depression in 1989, for the next 14-years I lived without treatment or a recovery plan. I've been homeless, one time I graduated college, I've won awards for reporting on Internet privacy issues. In 2002 I finally hit bottom and found help. I have a 4-year old son, a newborn son, and I'm helping to raise my 8-year old step-son, I’m usually about six feet tall, and I'm pretty sure I screwed up my book deal.
This entry was posted in Bipolar, Bipolar Disease, Bipolar Disorder, Clinical Depression, crazy people with no pants, Health, Humor, Humour, Inappropriate Humour Day, Living With Manic Depression, Manic Depression, Mental Health, Punk. Bookmark the permalink.

6 Responses to Totally Inappropriate Salted Humour Day: Knock Knock

  1. gabrielae says:

    Humour is a good recipe for keeping the big bad blues out. My personal favorite has always been music, though.

  2. thordora says:

    I have trouble retaining a sense of humor. Sucks really. i tend towards Terry pratchett like stuff when I do.

  3. Gabriel... says:

    Thor-Dora… you know humour is spelled with a “u”. Shame.

    Humour has a tendency to get sucked out of us when we are first getting into recovery. I found the early days to be mostly exhausting. People don’t realize how exhausting major depressions can be, the manic’s everyone kind of understand because there you are jumping from rooftop to rooftop at a million thoughts per second and people can relate when you finally crash and say “wow. I sure am tired.” But the depressions come with the swirling thoughts as well, you may be stuck to your bed nearly catatonic with depression, but your brain just won’t turn the fuck off so you never really sleep — or at least you never really get the benefits of Good Sleep.

    So as long as you’re untreated you spend almost every waking moment bouncing between hyperactive thoughts, actions and never wanting to sleep, to always wanting to sleep but never being able to get there. So once we get into treatment the first reaction from our bodies and our brains is… “holy crap, I can finally catch up on that eighteen years of sleep I missed.”

    The result is — now they we’re slowing down and moderating our moods into some normalcy — we’re just too freaking tired all the time, and what happens when people are tired all the time? They get cranky. With an emphasis on the Ranky. I started taking the pills and seeing the doctor roughly three years ago, I can honestly say I just started laughing (like I mean it) again this year.

    I’ve got a video for you Gabrielae that I think is just stunning… very simple but very moving. I’ll post it this week.

  4. I could totally see the end coming…

  5. Gabriel... says:

    Of course you could, nin-JAH’s can see things twenty minutes before they happen. I’m surprised you came over to watch it at all…

  6. Pingback: My Thanks To You On The First Anniversary Of Salted Lithium… YAY YOU. « …salted lithium.

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