No, no, no, no.
I don’t want to post today. The girl stamps her feet. The girl sighs beneath the pressure of an extraordinary headache that will not subside.
I have nothing to do but complain and at this moment, I can hardly keep my eyes open. I think I have reached my limit. I think I do not care to apologize. I think I feel delirious.
This is my doing but I don’t care.
General nausea from having random ribs for dinner (not random in that I don’t know where they came from, but random in that they were unexpected, and didn’t come alongside anything else)
Don’t half-cry, because then, you just get a headache. Don’t sit in your car in the parking lot and listen to Janis Joplin wail “Take Another Little Piece of My Heart” because you will break your own neck.
Language is sneering at me today.
I have to prove I am capable, though, I have to do more than the nothing that I do so very often. Even if I have to force out one idiotic sentence at a time, I can find a way.
I am grateful for the unseasonably warm autumn we are having so that I can wear t-shirts all the way into late October. 80 degrees today. That’s not right, but the effects are absolutely lovely. Relaxing, in their way, not to have to worry about trudging anywhere yet in the snow. I am grateful that even if my mother does not get the full, whole picture of what I need without me having to find the words for it, she at least knows when I am tired and will send me home to sleep. I am grateful for a day off tomorrow so that I can honestly and earnestly crash as long and as hard as I want.
I love that I, even sitting here in abject misery as though I have a goddess battering around inside my skull, have some high hopes and even some reserve of energy for tomorrow to get somethings in order here. I love the Hitachi magic wand for reasons that are entirely without scandal. I love that sweet little dumb kitty cat who roams the hallways looking for anyone to play with her or feed her or tell her how marvelous she is. I love finding a way to be distracted from my panic. I love Great British Bake-Off, and the peace it fills me with.
Wouldn’t it be nice if I found a way to write all my words tonight and then just fell asleep after taking some aspirin and then woke up refreshed and ready to attack things? Wouldn’t it be nice if I did my face up nice tomorrow? Wouldn’t it be nice if I got the baking done I wanted to do? Wouldn’t it be nice if I tackled this whole room and played Civ IV and just enjoyed calm? Wouldn’t it be nice if this last sentence contained all the words I needed to be done?