Feb. 22nd, 2024

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My legs probably wish that I would just die so they wouldn't have to carry my fat ass around anymore. They protest a little bit more each time I stand up, and I now routinely expect them to suddenly go on a wildcat strike and drop me to the floor like the sack of rotting potatoes I've grown to so closely resemble. Honestly, I couldn't justly blame them if they did, though unjustly I probably would anyway. On the other hand, those same legs also protest if I stay in bed too long, so what they hell is their problem? Hell if I know. Just old and cranky, I guess.

The rain is gone for now, with the next possible showers not due until Monday, and Saturday is to be sunny with a high of 68, so it's a freaking instant spring. There might be more rain toward the end of the month and in early March, but I I wouldn't count on it. I might not be awake for much of it in any case. My sleep schedule has gotten so weird and extensive that I can't plan on being awake for anything at all. I got up around two o'clock this morning, and around six I went in to make the bed, and the task so exhausted me that I flopped down on top of it and napped without any covers for an hour. So random. I don't know hat's next. There was a fog advisory this morning that wasn't supposed to end until ten o'clock, but I haven't seen so much as a wisp of fog. Disappointing. I love a nice fog and never get to see it anymore. Maybe I'll go back to sleep. Maybe I'll dream about fog. I won't remember it if I do, but I can pretend I do. Better than nothing.

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rejectomorph

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