I don’t have much in common with normal people anymore. Unless you’ve got money you can’t hang and no one really wants to hear your problems, especially when they don’t change. (The move was already almost two years ago so… I remember people offering up all kinds of comforting advice the first year, like “in the PNW it takes about a month for every 10,000 you want to earn”. OK. So eventually I’ll get hired for like $500,000 a year? I’m so sure.)
And then there is the weirdness of Emperor Baby Fists… I have little to no patience for everyone’s shock and dismay. As I like to say, I’d been having 2016 since the middle of 2015. How could this HAPPEN? Guess what, shit happens and life isn’t fair. Back in NYC I’d started going to demonstrations and marches, anti nukes (Indian Point) and anti Monsanto. I didn’t for once consider going to the women’s march in Portland this Saturday. I’ve got no spirit for it. All I want to do is find somewhere amenable to sit and drink beer. That’s it.
Took another rest day yesterday. No reason other than apathy, but it was an NB and I didn’t totally pig out. Two rest days a week is bad endorphin/mood/motivation wise, though on a sheer exercise level, I work out way more intensely way more often than I used to, since I started HIIT toward the end of 2014.
I slept deeply because no alcohol and the darkness of rain. Charlie had already left for work when I got up at 7:30. He’s got a long day… I’ll get some exercise in and then maybe go downtown on the first afternoon bus. Bus 51 was out of service for a good 11 days, but it was running yesterday, and I’ve been losing my mind with just sitting in the house all the time. I could even bring some sketching supplies… It’ll be too wet to draw outside but I could just doodle in a cafe…
I’m reduced to a notepad and speakable items. (I can type faster than I can write.) I got close to five hours of solid sleep, which is the most since before onset (Thursday night). Had to take a tranquilizer though. I’ll definitely leave the cannabis oil off the menu from now on. The high doesn’t knock me out which is the entire point. All I get is an unbearable dry mouth. I was thinking Sunday night that at least I was being forced to sip water, but staying miserably awake all night was definitely not part of the intended cure.
Last night I was hoping this would be a workout day, but I can tell I’m pretty much holding steady at the bottom here. The upswing hasn’t started yet. And who cares really? It’s not like I’m going to not look good in those nice outfits I don’t have, while hanging out with my local social circle which doesn’t exist. I’ve always made new friends easily in the past, but that requires leaving the house. It also requires an income (which here would be enough to cover the cost of drinks, snacks and uber).
If Fuzz would ever get off his ass and send us the title replacement for the pre-dented Fuzzmobile, I could learn to drive, and I could at least make grocery runs. But that wouldn’t help me socialize. I’d need to live in a public transportation zone for that.
Drinking peppermint, turmeric and ginger tea with lots of honey, now that I’ve had my black coffee. Burning the (first) reversal candle. I didn’t finish it last night because I knew I didn’t have the energy to walk down the long drive way, smash the mirror and walk back up again. Today I will do it.
The stuff in my chest is still infected and very tight. I probably won’t have a voice at all until it started to soften and break up.
And half the day’s over. Excellent! And it only took 1 tablet
I guess I don’t have mono but that weird, nervous churning feeling in my upper abdomen, spleen area, reminds me of my bout, long ago. It was the first day of eighth grade. My sister and I both got ready in same bathroom, each perched on one side of the counter. I was applying my blue sparkly eye shadow (I’m that old), when I sort of crumpled, slid to the floor and passed out. You could call that sudden onset! My sister accused me of always being “so dramatic”. My dad had to come in and pick me up off the floor and deposit me on my bed. There was a moment I scared the fuck out of everyone by being unable to respond. Soon after I had the worst sore throat you could imagine, like strep at mach 10. I needed help getting from the car into the doctor’s office later as well, but by then I could speak.
It was a rager of a case & I missed a full month of school. My throat felt like that last night. It’s hard to get any liquids down when it’s that painful to swallow.
Maybe I’ll have to go back to vegetarian again and see if that helps my immune system as much as it did in my late 30s. I still think vegan is the only ethical way, but it’s just too damn hard when you’re this isolated and poor. I’m lucky to have a roof over my head and food to eat. When I’m buying my own groceries again then I can be pickier.