A Nice Thought

I’m not sure if it’s the time change or something else kicking my ass. I could not seem to drag myself out of bed this morning, and only the fact that the dogs needed to unload their bladders managed to move me. It feels a little bit like the massive burnout I had last year, when I physically couldn’t force myself upright and spent a good eighteen hours or so per day asleep and the remaining ones wishing I were unconscious.

The thing about the kind of stress we’re all living under is that it’s cumulative and there’s never enough time to undo the damage. We just keep taking DoT while the raid boss laughs and our healers are all out of mana, not to mention on global cooldown.

…gods, I miss playing WoW. If only Blizzard hadn’t been so rancid. *sigh*

I know precisely what would fix me. The only trouble is the world won’t cooperate. Or, more precisely, a selfish minority won’t mask up, won’t get vaxxed, won’t stop bullying, won’t stop being hideous violent bigots. If people would just fucking get along there would be no bloody problem, but that minority of bullying, racist abusers simply won’t. The powerful will not give up what they believe they’re entitled to. So I’m forced to other methods of preserving my stability and sanity–the only trouble is, individual solutions don’t do much about systemic problems, nor should they be called upon to.

Still, I’ve got to do something to re-wrap my nerves. I’ve been making bespoke chocolate edibles (the current batches are cardamom and pumpkin spice, respectively) and building my running mileage base again. I’m experimenting with the recipe for the first (there’s a slight graininess from using cocoa that I have yet to overcome) and making the second a priority though it cuts into time I would much rather be doing other things with. I also have plans for Hell’s Acre–I was just going to do it as one massive book but I think I can get away with a season break after one of the recent chapters.

I also got the grow light for my office, and the plants seem to be rehabbing under it quite nicely except for the castor, which is unhappy with everything. It might be a failed experiment, but I keep talking to it, encouraging it to tell me what it needs or to just take all the light and do something. The jade plant is super happy and the angel trumpet has visibly grown, so at least there’s that. I might have to repot the hen-and-chick succulent soon too.

I also moved a hop vine volunteer to the northern fence. If it takes off it’ll provide a privacy screen there during the summer. Since the kiwi there gave up the ghost during last summer’s heat dome, I’ve been thinking about a vine there. Hops will do.

The biggest trouble with circling burnout this way is the hit my productivity takes. I need to be engaged on multiple projects or we don’t eat. Our margin is very, very slim here at the Chez and I don’t want it to get any thinner. I would desperately like for the world to calm down a bit so I can just bloody well work.

This is me, heaving a deep sigh. But as my sister pointed out last year, the influenza epidemic that started in 1918 took about three years to be addressed, for people to finally stop being dunderheads and take the steps necessary to actually put it to bed. Maybe this is the year the anti-maskers and ridiculous anti-vax asshats will finally be shouted down by reasonable people sick of their nastiness. Maybe.

Silver linings, I guess. I can’t even talk about the other current events. I am brimful of the world’s pain and it feels like one more drop will split me open like an overripe fruit. My guts will go everywhere and the wasps will feast. And isn’t that a cheerful thought.

There’s work planned for today. I don’t know if I’ll get there. Even walking the dogs seems an impossible task, let alone running my own heavy corpse. I’ll probably feel better after both, so I suppose I’d best get started. There’s brekkie to handle too, except the last thing I want to do is eat.

Meh. That’s the theme of today, I suppose: A resounding meh.

I hope your Tuesday is starting better than mine, beloveds. I keep telling myself things like courage and chin up and could be worse, and even I’m getting tired of hearing it. Maybe I should just dive into the edibles and curl up in bed after I wash off the day’s run, and play a mobile game or something. I probably will not do so, since I feel even worse when I don’t work, but it’s a nice thought.

See you around.