(no subject)
Depressed. Not about anything in particular, which is the best and worst kind of depressed. I feel like I've had a lifecrash. Everything moving so fast, blurring, and then suddenly stopped. Thank Christ I did stop. But that stop has brought on a kind of inertia.
I had a virus. It was our 500th blisteringly hot and humid day in a row, and I had a virus. That's when I walked through my kitchen and twisted my foot a whole 180 degrees horizontally the wrong way. I could hear muscle tear and tendons break like rubber stretched too far. That hurts. It really. really. hurts. And I already had a virus. And it was the 500th blisteringly hot and humid day in a row. And I was working hard on my constipation. I had those laxatives that are in chocolate form, and they were all soft and melted.
And my cats were being fussy too. "We'd rather starve to death than eat that tinned crap you bought for us." The thing is, they sometimes eat dirt off the floor. For crying out loud, Crunchy has had a go at the kitty litter once or twice. But juicy fish? I may as well have crapped in their bowls. I hold off giving them their dry food in the hopes they'll be forced to eat it through sheer necessity, but in the end I have to give up and scoop their entire breakfast into the bin. What a waste.
So there I lay. Howling in agony. Sweating and yet shivering with a fever. 41 degrees outside yet I'm huddled under layers of blankets. Brrrr. Cold. Then the switch. It's not cold! It's hot! My air-conditioner has broken down. I only have one fan to keep me going. If that breaks my day gets worse.
I had a virus. It was our 500th blisteringly hot and humid day in a row, and I had a virus. That's when I walked through my kitchen and twisted my foot a whole 180 degrees horizontally the wrong way. I could hear muscle tear and tendons break like rubber stretched too far. That hurts. It really. really. hurts. And I already had a virus. And it was the 500th blisteringly hot and humid day in a row. And I was working hard on my constipation. I had those laxatives that are in chocolate form, and they were all soft and melted.
And my cats were being fussy too. "We'd rather starve to death than eat that tinned crap you bought for us." The thing is, they sometimes eat dirt off the floor. For crying out loud, Crunchy has had a go at the kitty litter once or twice. But juicy fish? I may as well have crapped in their bowls. I hold off giving them their dry food in the hopes they'll be forced to eat it through sheer necessity, but in the end I have to give up and scoop their entire breakfast into the bin. What a waste.
So there I lay. Howling in agony. Sweating and yet shivering with a fever. 41 degrees outside yet I'm huddled under layers of blankets. Brrrr. Cold. Then the switch. It's not cold! It's hot! My air-conditioner has broken down. I only have one fan to keep me going. If that breaks my day gets worse.