Been The Case
Tuesday. To bed before eleven after watching Scott & Bailey, two women detectives cut from what seems to be the current cloth of lawyers/detectives/heroes who function, but just barely, with issues that seem to put them into the middle of a never ending emotional clusterfuck spiral. To sleep soon after. Up at seven, no way I was going to get up at six.
Otherwise off to breakfast in the usual way, home to find, after a long session editing yesterday's entry, further edits hopeless and so to bed to see it couldn't be turned around after a nap. Just feeling foggy and tired, none of the ocular symptoms, and so up finally to do one final edit and then post yesterday's entry. We will not go back and look at it more out of fear than confidence.
They're saying and it's looking like another sunny warm day topping out in the low seventies as it now approaches noon. A session on the guitar, I'd think, before heading downtown for our Tuesday lesson. That and another nap. The world still hasn't quite knitted itself together yet.
Later. Ah, well. A walk to the convenience store for an ice cream cone and some trail mix. (No, I'm not sure what's quite in it either. Maybe best to skip it next time, but they were out of Necco wafers.) I have no idea why, but hungry again without being able to think of anything I could or was willing to eat.
Then an email to cancel the guitar lesson. Just feeling funky and the sinus-upper palate doing its thing to the point the idea of getting on a bus was daunting. I could do it, but there are a lot of things I could do and don't. Rock climbing and sky diving come to mind.
You sure you're not making this up because you're not ready, letting a funky head get in the way where a regular person would just suck it up and go without complaint or comment?
You're never a hundred percent certain about anything, but I do feel crappy. A nap now. See if the day goes as other days seem to go with things turning themselves around later this afternoon and into the evening.
Evening. And so things have indeed knitted themselves together and I'm sitting here finally feeling pretty much OK. Not great, but good enough, certainly not bad, nothing but the usual sinus thing going on in the background, nothing over the top as it's done in the past. I guess we just sit and see if this is the way of the future (for the rest of our life).
We're upset? We're depressed? What?
Oddly, none of the above. Whatever hand has been dealt is still a good hand. No complaints. The television in the evenings could be better, but then when has that ever not been the case?