Under a Super Blood Wolf Moon: Day 20

The most metal of moons.

I need to change this website.  I know I do.  I’m not entirely sure how to go about this.  But the endless icy sheets of black and white, even the blurry little weed breaking through the crack on the screen no longer makes me smile when I look at it.  I need to just hire someone?  I don’t know.  Just change the picture, that would be a start.

I am needing to do something different tomorrow.  All of it.  I made real shit choices today, this weekend, this month, really.  So.  How do you stop the engine when you’re rolling right along into a hotter and hotter fire?  You are here, for one.  You turn off the other noises and you give yourself over to a bit of self-reflection.

I have written a lot today, none of it really suitable to share.  That’s been the sum total of it.  Did leave the house for a brunch I absolute did not need to have.  I’ve spent the day bleary.  In some conversation with J, consoling him for his bleariness and ignoring my own.  Honestly, this is the hardest bit of it. The up and the down.  I don’t blame him for it or even judge him for it, but finding yourself attenuating your moods to someone who is equally fluid when it comes to being able to tolerate themselves is a rough gig.   Yesterday, I’m queen of the universe for him, today, exhaustion and sad posting and a bevy of other people suggesting how to break out of the mental funk while my suggestions get little more than a shrug.

I’m reacting much more poorly than I’d like to all this.

So now, end of the Sunday shame spiral: I am here, spattered with gravy from the undying pot roast, and everything is a mess.  Petrified to check my work email.  Checked it as best I could and nothing was radioactive so I feel instantly much relieved.  My plan to combat this and come back to some form of recognizable :

Become Willing
Find my Fitbit
Drink an entire glass of water (a whole and entire eight ounces)
Charge my phone and fitbit and put them somewhere I can find them in a few short hours.
Defenestrate the undead pot roast.
Not get so distracted by nonsense that I can’t finish this post
Finish this post.
Remember I have my drink in the fridge in the morning.
Brush my teeth and try and wash my face in a format that my face will find tolerable and not set to itching over.
Fix my sheets so I don’t find falling asleep completely impossible.
Set my alarm.
Figure out what the heck I want to wear tomorrow out of the bundle of laundry I did and tossed aside out of some sense of boring laziness that sure as fuck fucks me over now.
Possibly order groceries for tomorrow.  Possibly just plan to go to the grocery store?
Trust in the process.
Remember to reschedule therapy.

Virtuous Inches

Asskicking the malaise.  If I knew how to do it, oh boy, I’d be pulling on those army boots right now.  I am not right in my head AGAIN.  GRRR.  My stomach is not entirely better.  The bowels of which I dare not speak are up in arms again and these gas kinks are leaving me rather trepidatious.

Small.  Doing five things in a row.  I think I’m going to reread that whole FlyLady thing and try and get myself going.   I really don’t want to find my ass growing into my chair.  Kind of a sad way to go.

Father’s day mainly involved being over there as opposed to be over here and not really sleeping and being my own version of Laura in Glass Menagerie.  Took a sort of lengthy walk in the hot sun with the dog until I sort of waffled out, or really, my mother saw that I was sort of stiltedly trailing behind and suggested we go back.

Then, we watched the Rockies game and I’m sure at some point I spazzed out for 5 minutes with sobbing tears over the fact that I’m going to die alone and everyone’s getting married and la la la – just enough emo to spark a light headache and make me feel pretty hugely stupid and that I’m looking once again in the wrong direction.

Mainly what I’ve been doing is laying around and eating.  Stress

Really, there is so nothing going on today worth bloviating for 500 words over.  Watching more West Wing.  Not really thinking anything at all, really.  Every now and then I have a few days like this.  I honestly hate them.  I like myself so much better when I’m earnest and struggling and failing and flailing and feeling overmuch and being fully in my body.

Right now I’m about six inches above my own head, bobbing up and down.  I feel pretty stripped down.  I’m waiting to click in.  I feel like I haven’t woken up yet.  Like I’m half-dead.  I’ll have to manage it tomorrow, don’t know why I can’t manage it today.  Lethargy sucks donkey balls.  Where is the energy and the power and the divine inspiration that helps me through the day?

I know I can’t work like this tomorrow.  I’d collapse and curl up under my desk.


Take some aspirin.

Eat dinner and cut off the neverending trough.

Lay out my clothing for tomorrow.
Make a lunch grocery list to include possibly going low carb starting tomorrow night.  My little sister’s gloating about having lost four pounds in three days doing low carb (despite being 3/4ths my size) is frankly annoying.  She’s motivated and should probably shut up. Also, I would like a little clarity since this whateverness is making me feel like I want to either kill myself or everyone around me.

The answer to this cannot be sugar, caffeine, and me staying up all hours.

Still I don’t have the right pillow.   Let’s do something.

Exercise cautious optimism.