Hercules Smirkules - What did I do with my day?
I am telling you, it has been exceedingly difficult to get through the density that hath descended upon, and consumed, my brain and consciousness. So, sleep sleep and sleep is more of what I did, today. Poor dog had to do that, too, which was good for him, because I pretty much think he has the him form of what I have.
If only to just move a little dirt from outside into my indoors makeshift flower pots, so then I wouldst happy bee. But Noooooooooooooo! I didn't have it in me to do that. I did muster enough cognizance to WALK. And so today was a walk day. Meanwhile, my upper arms were still recuperating from the strain of retaliatory pruning of something like 10 days ago. And until something like that completes, my brain remains in dementia. It's the weirdest thing.
Dog has been getting mucho beaucoupx foods, even though he hasn't been pooping enough to deserve it. And, so, he has been on the funked-up side of health. Meaning he wanders around, follows me around, smells bad, and puts himself stupidly and inanely/beseechingly in mine ways. And, for someone struggling to depose dementia, still caught in a dizzying slow-motion whirlwind of inane horror, this can be extremely frustrating. Like a nightmare, really. I can't convey to you..
So, getting away from this, at least once a week, can be very helpful to my sanity and my health. Too bad that he is, basically, dying in extremely slow motion. I cannot always be catering to that, in the compromised state I am in, or I shall also die. From him and insidious neighbours.
I recall that, back when I lived in the other town, when dog was younger, and more assertive in his annoyances? I found that it would be a good thing for me to get away from him at least once a week. A good thing for both of us. So, when I came back, he reset to appreciating me for how important and wonderful I was in his life - instead of putting upon me and imploring upon me day and night as if I was some kind of doggie treat or doggie love vending machine. It really helped us both for me to get away from him.
And, so, I find it helps now. Except, in a sadder, sadder way.
But, really, just to cure my brain somewhat more, I need to get away from his own illness, or old age, or both, or I shall simply be swallowed up by the dark shadows of the Earth. I don;t know how to explain it to you. You have to live it. And god help you, if you do. Because, folks, I am living a true HELL. Anyway...
I got out of the house! Walked with my backpack, past my friend with his little daughters, who caught side of me, but we did not wave. And I think one guy wanted to say hi, but he was a mailman, and I had thought he had been a resident, so I was confused. We live and learn. Walked by a house, not far from me, playing Led Zeppelin loudly, and I liked that.
Also walked by a pile of rubbish which included two excellent snow-shoes. I meant to come back to this pile, but never did. You see, there is a big chance I might move north. The wows and highs of this we can get into later.
Walked downtown. It was loud, again. And thus also begins the Memorial Day Weekend. There were a few girls along the various ways and means. One girl had the long rectangular glasses and black hair, and I knew we both wanted library sex, and maybe that would have been a nice thing. I don;t see a lot of girl-womans I'd be interested in pursuing. However...
I eventually felt back to the days when I was a free-roaming derelict, and could basically pick off any female I wanted. Just by being random. And cool, of course. Not that I wanted many. But, I could do that, if I wanted to. Life is a little different in a bigger town. I like it and yet I don't. I feel the city within me, it is part of me. And yet I now lug around this CFS, which tells me to run off and live in a field of cat-tails.
Anyway. The plan for today was to ignore any back yard work, and walk to the food pantry, which was across the river. I figured I'd find it by memory. But it had moved to it's own new building. I did find it before it closed, at 4:pm. And, inside, it was a return to worser times. And, this was the first time, in a long time, I was amidst so many people, coughing and spitting directly into my eyes and injecting me with poisons and. well. maybe not as bad as all this. But, there may not be COVID to worry about, but there is all this SHEDDING!
Which no one is aware of.
So, I got 6 pounds of enriched rice, and 2 pounds of dried lentils, 6 cans of stuff, and it was a pretty good haul. I also grabbed a 5 or 10 bag of bread flour, which I figured could be valuable in future bartering. I reeeely try to avoid wheat. I told them, please no bread, but I got bread anyway. I might end up eating bread. Stay tuned for the exciting conclusion!
I remember, one time, back before I moved OUT of this city, I walked to this pantry, when it was at a makeshift location... And here was too much for my poor CFS bones to carry... So, I buried half of my stash in the snow, in a white bag. And I later went back and picked that up, when I could.
This time, again, they overburdened me. Not their fault. I just requested against the lighter, processed foods. And ended up with heavier stuff. Really heavy. So heavy, in fact, that I didn't know how I could get back home.
But, I did make it to the little Mexican restaurant which I like. Sat myself down for some serious reckoning. Had to decide if I should figure out a bus home. Or something.
Well, I not only had their famous black bean taco, and a dark Modelo, I had also prepared my own fixings for a second taco! Because, seriously, one taco is not enough. This worked out all right, though.
But my taco shell went too hard along the edges and too soft in the main. It became a mess. No real problem.
[I didn't mention that I had passed by the Peruvian cafe, earlier, which now said it was OPEN. Too expensive. Right. I want to immerse myself in poor couture by doling out mucho mullah].
(I also had a second Modelo, from the small-Olmec-headed cashier, who liked me, but knew enough to be suspicious of all smiles from males).
The big problem was How was I going to get home, with this overloaded backpack?!
So, I left the 5-10 pound bag of bread flour on the table, with a note, "Free, to a Good Home." And I put some backpack things into a side bag.
Instead of figuring out a bus, I then walked on. It can be a good thing to have alcohol in you, as it thins out the blood. And helps towards keeping you from collapsing from myocardial infarctions, and so on.
However, alcohol in the brain of a CFS peoples? Makes this kind of a wash.
But, I did push on! I made it to the farmers market. And it was full of people and noise. Being overweighted, I had no interest, now, in buying anything there, or even of exhaling, or expressing any other sort of secreted bodily fluid, gas or emotion.
I got to a far-away tree, and managed to decouple from my serious backpack. Sat down for a while.
Walked home.
Made it.
These are the life and times.
Be thankful for them, for one day we die.
It's a silly life we live.
If only to just move a little dirt from outside into my indoors makeshift flower pots, so then I wouldst happy bee. But Noooooooooooooo! I didn't have it in me to do that. I did muster enough cognizance to WALK. And so today was a walk day. Meanwhile, my upper arms were still recuperating from the strain of retaliatory pruning of something like 10 days ago. And until something like that completes, my brain remains in dementia. It's the weirdest thing.
Dog has been getting mucho beaucoupx foods, even though he hasn't been pooping enough to deserve it. And, so, he has been on the funked-up side of health. Meaning he wanders around, follows me around, smells bad, and puts himself stupidly and inanely/beseechingly in mine ways. And, for someone struggling to depose dementia, still caught in a dizzying slow-motion whirlwind of inane horror, this can be extremely frustrating. Like a nightmare, really. I can't convey to you..
So, getting away from this, at least once a week, can be very helpful to my sanity and my health. Too bad that he is, basically, dying in extremely slow motion. I cannot always be catering to that, in the compromised state I am in, or I shall also die. From him and insidious neighbours.
I recall that, back when I lived in the other town, when dog was younger, and more assertive in his annoyances? I found that it would be a good thing for me to get away from him at least once a week. A good thing for both of us. So, when I came back, he reset to appreciating me for how important and wonderful I was in his life - instead of putting upon me and imploring upon me day and night as if I was some kind of doggie treat or doggie love vending machine. It really helped us both for me to get away from him.
And, so, I find it helps now. Except, in a sadder, sadder way.
But, really, just to cure my brain somewhat more, I need to get away from his own illness, or old age, or both, or I shall simply be swallowed up by the dark shadows of the Earth. I don;t know how to explain it to you. You have to live it. And god help you, if you do. Because, folks, I am living a true HELL. Anyway...
I got out of the house! Walked with my backpack, past my friend with his little daughters, who caught side of me, but we did not wave. And I think one guy wanted to say hi, but he was a mailman, and I had thought he had been a resident, so I was confused. We live and learn. Walked by a house, not far from me, playing Led Zeppelin loudly, and I liked that.
Also walked by a pile of rubbish which included two excellent snow-shoes. I meant to come back to this pile, but never did. You see, there is a big chance I might move north. The wows and highs of this we can get into later.
Walked downtown. It was loud, again. And thus also begins the Memorial Day Weekend. There were a few girls along the various ways and means. One girl had the long rectangular glasses and black hair, and I knew we both wanted library sex, and maybe that would have been a nice thing. I don;t see a lot of girl-womans I'd be interested in pursuing. However...
I eventually felt back to the days when I was a free-roaming derelict, and could basically pick off any female I wanted. Just by being random. And cool, of course. Not that I wanted many. But, I could do that, if I wanted to. Life is a little different in a bigger town. I like it and yet I don't. I feel the city within me, it is part of me. And yet I now lug around this CFS, which tells me to run off and live in a field of cat-tails.
Anyway. The plan for today was to ignore any back yard work, and walk to the food pantry, which was across the river. I figured I'd find it by memory. But it had moved to it's own new building. I did find it before it closed, at 4:pm. And, inside, it was a return to worser times. And, this was the first time, in a long time, I was amidst so many people, coughing and spitting directly into my eyes and injecting me with poisons and. well. maybe not as bad as all this. But, there may not be COVID to worry about, but there is all this SHEDDING!
Which no one is aware of.
So, I got 6 pounds of enriched rice, and 2 pounds of dried lentils, 6 cans of stuff, and it was a pretty good haul. I also grabbed a 5 or 10 bag of bread flour, which I figured could be valuable in future bartering. I reeeely try to avoid wheat. I told them, please no bread, but I got bread anyway. I might end up eating bread. Stay tuned for the exciting conclusion!
I remember, one time, back before I moved OUT of this city, I walked to this pantry, when it was at a makeshift location... And here was too much for my poor CFS bones to carry... So, I buried half of my stash in the snow, in a white bag. And I later went back and picked that up, when I could.
This time, again, they overburdened me. Not their fault. I just requested against the lighter, processed foods. And ended up with heavier stuff. Really heavy. So heavy, in fact, that I didn't know how I could get back home.
But, I did make it to the little Mexican restaurant which I like. Sat myself down for some serious reckoning. Had to decide if I should figure out a bus home. Or something.
Well, I not only had their famous black bean taco, and a dark Modelo, I had also prepared my own fixings for a second taco! Because, seriously, one taco is not enough. This worked out all right, though.
But my taco shell went too hard along the edges and too soft in the main. It became a mess. No real problem.
[I didn't mention that I had passed by the Peruvian cafe, earlier, which now said it was OPEN. Too expensive. Right. I want to immerse myself in poor couture by doling out mucho mullah].
(I also had a second Modelo, from the small-Olmec-headed cashier, who liked me, but knew enough to be suspicious of all smiles from males).
The big problem was How was I going to get home, with this overloaded backpack?!
So, I left the 5-10 pound bag of bread flour on the table, with a note, "Free, to a Good Home." And I put some backpack things into a side bag.
Instead of figuring out a bus, I then walked on. It can be a good thing to have alcohol in you, as it thins out the blood. And helps towards keeping you from collapsing from myocardial infarctions, and so on.
However, alcohol in the brain of a CFS peoples? Makes this kind of a wash.
But, I did push on! I made it to the farmers market. And it was full of people and noise. Being overweighted, I had no interest, now, in buying anything there, or even of exhaling, or expressing any other sort of secreted bodily fluid, gas or emotion.
I got to a far-away tree, and managed to decouple from my serious backpack. Sat down for a while.
Walked home.
Made it.
These are the life and times.
Be thankful for them, for one day we die.
It's a silly life we live.