Space For Rant
*sigh* ...I don't say things like that...
And, of course, I have Hound in the background giving me a 'Yes, you do' look. He's probably right. But I'll not admit it. Not today, anyway.
The majority of Tact's headspace community has been deathly quiet over the last few weeks. This is never a good thing. Especially when she fails to find other activities to occupy her mind in the absence of the community's voice. It does... bizarre things to her mind. And we, as residents of her mind, are impacted to various degrees.
It doesn't help that she has a... 'cold'. I guess this is the term. It applies nicely enough, as she has been downright frigid over the last few days. It cuts deep into our line of communication when she takes to biting at us rather than talking. I try to understand and to sympathize what she goes through. After all, her head congestion does put a cramp on our space up here, too. Not at all pleasant.
The chemical remedies she ingests become another blockade-
Hound: Speaking of which, she just took another dose of that Benadryl.
*sigh* Didn't she just eat a pair of those pills a few hours ago?
Hound: Yep. *shakes head* And when people swallow pills, it's not considered eating.
Is that somehow relevant to what I'm writing?
Hound: *grins* S'pose not. Just making small talk.
I just turn my back and continue... though I know he's going to stay at my back and watch what I write from over my shoulder now. Not that it matters much. If Tact is downing Benadryl again, she'll be out like a light in less than an hour. So too will we. I can already feel the sedating effects of the first dose she took. It's strange. It's a bit disorienting. I don't like this feeling. Hence the blockade I spoke of.
However, I can't place all accountability on something as innocent as cold medications. Something more is happening - and from both sides - that we just can't seem to overcome right now. There's a collective irritability among us all-
Hound: *clears static from his synthesizer*
Pardon me. All except for Hound. *sigh* He's right, though. Nothing seems to phase him. He plays right along with her mood swings without so much as a squint of his optics. And while he's had as much as zero luck (right along with anyone else) in getting Tact's muse going again, he's at least able to avoid her bitter tongue. Nor has he developed one of his own in reaction to hers.
I, personally, have noticed myself becoming rather sharp toward she and Hound recently.
Hound: *slips a supportive hand over my shoulder* You're just channeling her PMS, Mirage.
No. I am not.
Tact: Hey! I don't get PMS!
Hound: Oops! Now you've got her attention. *chuckles*
I did?!
Tact: *is briefly reading through what I've written* Didn't I create a journal for you for this stuff?
Yes. But my password is stored at the Ark.
Tact: *rolls her eyes at me* Use your OWN. DAMN. JOURNAL.
Hound: He will. Promise. Just let him finish up here.
He's so good with those placating tones.
Tact: *blinks at us both* I don't get PMS.
She's yawning now. It won't be long before she'll be crashing. So, I guess we'll just have to wait and see what tomorrow brings. Cliche, yes. I know. But, what more can you do?