Carpe Diem se dinges

So the Washington Post runs a neologism competition every year. Readers are asked to invent new meanings for common words, for example, ‘flabbergasted’ becomes ‘appalled over how much weight you have gained’ and ‘esplanade’ means ‘to attempt an explanation while drunk.’ ‘Flatulence (n.)’  is ‘an emergency vehicle that picks you up after you are run over by a steamroller’ and a ‘testicle’ is ‘a humorous question in an exam”. And so on and so forth. Very funny I know.

Funnier, I thought, is the ‘Style Invitational’ – you take a word, add, subtract or change one letter and provide a new definition. Hence we now have in English, ‘foreploy (v.): any misrepresentation about yourself for the purpose of getting laid’ (I thought some of the guys would like this one), ‘glibido (v.): all talk and no action’ (for some of the girls) and ‘sarchasm (n.): the gulf between the author of sarcastic wit and the person who doesn’t get it. ‘Osteopornosis (n.): a degenerate disease’ apparently got extra credit, as did ‘ignoranus (n.): a person who’s both stupid and an asshole’.

But back to me. It is ‘decafalon’ that describes my state in this moment most accurately. It is a noun, and signifies ‘the gruelling event of getting through the day consuming only things that are good for you.’

The day was hardly 12 hours old and-Enough- enough! my body moaned, slyly (it’s going to turn into Gollum if I am not careful) Give me wheat! Give me a tall cappuccino with wings! Give a chocolate! (any sugar will do, sugar-) I need it! I need it! I need it! (I cannot decide if the compulsion to repeat things thrice is a hangover from Celeste or has something to do with the very- dinges-Yoga Nidra class I had this morning. We Aum’d thrice, and then lay about like corpses for a long time after stating a resolve to ourselves, in our minds, three times again. Mine was that I resolve that my body will heal itself. I have to keep on thinking of this. Then we did what she called visualisation and so on.)

I managed yesterday very well with the healthy eating thing. I hardly noticed the absence of- things, and in the evening I did not even have a glass of wine, in spite of the fact that I have resigned myself that I will probably on give up alcohol on Monday. But today- I am hungry, I have a headache and I feel a little weak. I have not eaten less that I normally would, or, actually, any differently, but I feel awful. Impatient. I think it’s the early signs of coffee ((n.) a person one coughs upon) withdrawal.

Apparently it only gets worse, so I have a lot to look forward too. I try to think of glowing skin, sweet breath, supple, strong limbs and a loving disposition towards all living beings except maybe Celeste. But instead I think of Lindt Lindor dark (sugar, caffeine) and Glen Carlou Chardonnay (alcohol). What possible interpretation of carpe diem reads that one should not eat fresh dates stuffed with gorgonzola (dairy)? Eat dessert first, life is so uncertain, I read the other day. Everybody has a fucking opinion, it’s hard to decide who to listen. To cope, perhaps the greatest wit should guide one:

Drink and dance and laugh and lie,
love the reeling midnight through,
for tomorrow we will die
(but alas, we never do).

Dorothy Parker
(The flaw in paganism)

I’ll probably make it through at least another day.