Stretch Out


Send me a letter.  That would be swell.  Or don’t.  Because these predictions seem to make me feel like an asshole regardless of whether or not they are correct.  I don’t want to spend any more time than it takes to write these few brief lines about it thinking about it.  Time, regardless of anyone’s intentions, is diminishing this thing as it rightly should.  I am not going to hold this banner up and wave it around and try and use it as a scaffold to deeper, more adult emotions.  There’s no “there” there right now.  It’s a watched pot that ain’t boiling and the oven’s working, I’ve put my face on it to check.   Yes, I am not chasing the dragon on this.  I don’t understand, but sometimes you don’t get to understand.  It could easily take a week to reply carefully to the massive spitwad of emotional flotsam and jetsam I sent off last Saturday.   Especially if your life’s a bit topsy-turvy.  I am willing to be selfish for myself and expect one anyway concurrent with completely understanding why there isn’t one to be had. I am also 100% satisfied that I’ve done my level best to ante up, can’t help it if he doesn’t have the cards to call.

So instead, this Easter Sunday, we will have to celebrate other things what rose from the dead.

For one, my interest in Game of Thrones.  I fancy and have done for a thousand years, the actor Alexander Siddig, from those Star Trek days of yore.  And he will be on Season Five of this excellent, if exhausting, HBO show that mostly follows the book series, as I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you.  I’ve watched the whole of the first season and, as I rewatch, I’ve seen much of the second, but I think I was distracted by other things and never came back to it afterwards.  After all that excitement and fervor, I just didn’t keep up with it.  And now, to ready myself, I’m downloading episodes and curious to see how far I can get before the show returns in a week.

I am feeling…okay.  Better.  Not free and clear yet, wondering what else this might be if these epic doses of amoxicillin are not able to wring out this sore throat (I kept thinking that the strep test would be positive, but it wasn’t, so then I figured I didn’t gag myself properly to swab the area as the doctor asked) or the weird face feeling.  Though both are diminished to some degree.  I do feel better.  I wore my daffodil-colored skirt for most of the day until we went out for a long walk with the dog.

I also bought some BPAL last night.  There are certain scents that I really love and miss and want and I’ve been thinking about reordering for forever and so now, that’s off the list for a bit and it’ll be a lovely surprise when they arrive in a month or so.

All I want is a lovely surprise.

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