Always a bridesmaid, never a bowel movement

So today was weird. I ate something that made me extremely gassy but equally unable to expel said gas. I've felt like I was gonna explode all day. I haven't made any updates about my poop situations lately so you're welcome. The worst part of it was I was too miserable to eat but I was totally starving; hadn't eaten since like 1pm and that was just a bologna sammich (most likely the culprit). I finally went to the grocery store and got ingredients for the only thing that seemed appealing: bagel, cream cheese, cucumber and pastrami, with peach mango water to drink. I'm starting to feel a tad better so the food and the Gas X I've been eating like candy did the trick. And how weird is it that the one time I really, really need to poop I can't? I must be getting old.

As if to illustrate that point - 'cause there's no such thing as a coincidence - the music playing in the grocery store was the last thing I needed to hear. I've been in a borderline-ish mood lately, kinda antsy, kinda mopey, kinda staring down the barrel of a gun I pointed at myself (not in a suicide way, don't be so literal you dullard), so the last thing I needed to hear was this blast from my childhood

followed immediately by

If you aren't inclined to watch/listen then the lyrics are here and here, respectively. On a quick side note let me just say that I have a long and complicated relationship with Pink Floyd in general and Dark Side of the Moon in particular. I can't really explain it. It's vague and overwhelming and I keep it at arms length. It never doesn't hit me hard, even just a song fragment will put me into a weird, weird mood. Being in a weird mood already was less than an ideal circumstance to hear that song. Anyways, so lately I find myself playing another waiting game but I'm completely clueless as to what I'm waiting for. I think I'm waiting on me to do something counter productive. Like, how in dream you watch yourself do the wrong thing but can't stop yourself. Like yelling at the next victim in a horror movie. Maybe I'm reacting to the habit of bad decisions 'cause it seems like I'm due. Whatever it is it's off-putting.

Actually, I was kinda in the vicinity of an okay mood before I went shopping. I had been to see a friend of mine in a play and actually enjoyed it despite my misgivings over small town community theater productions. It was cute, my friend was great, my tummy let me sit through the whole thing. Then, despite my tummy forcing me to go to the store, I was kinda glad and thankful that I lived somewhere that allowed me the luxury of a midnight run to get comfort food. Stoopid introspection, always lurking around the corners and messing things up. Ah well, it could be worse and probably will be.