Reset Forty-Six, Day Fifteen
Nov. 23rd, 2022 10:31 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rejectomorphMonday evening I went to bed fairly early (around ten o'clock) and slept (off and on) until six o'clock in the morning, and damned if the same thing didn't happen again Tuesday evening and this morning. Two days in a row of something resembling a normal person's schedule. I won't take this as an indication that I'm turning into a normal person, of course, as it's way too late in my life for something that weird to happen, but I must say I do find it a bit disconcerting.
Also disconcerting is that this chilly morning has brought bright sun and blue sky decorated with streaks of lovely cirrus clouds, but I don't care very much. I seem to recall times when such a sky would by itself have filled me with delight, but today I can't muster more than a nonchalant "oh, that's rather nice." My fancy fails to follow the sky's suggestion, and my thoughts all return to the time's prevailing sad anxiety, provoking a dissatisfaction as dismal as the sight of a dropped dinner. And no, I have no idea what has aroused all this alliteration. Words are just running off on their own, and I lack the will to corral them.
I should probably eat something. All I've had this morning is my usual breakfast donut, this time with hot white coffee, but I can't think of anything else that appeals to me. Low grade aches have me disgruntled. Perhaps it's the persistent chill in the air. There's also a scent of wood smoke in the air, probably from somebody's fireplace, but it's a smell I no longer enjoy. I'll stay indoors, and maybe bake something to counteract both chill and odor. I've still got a frozen lasagna. A hot lunch would be a nice change. Other than that, just music videos on the Idernet, or perhaps an old radio show from Internet Archive. I don't feel like dealing with ideas today.
Also disconcerting is that this chilly morning has brought bright sun and blue sky decorated with streaks of lovely cirrus clouds, but I don't care very much. I seem to recall times when such a sky would by itself have filled me with delight, but today I can't muster more than a nonchalant "oh, that's rather nice." My fancy fails to follow the sky's suggestion, and my thoughts all return to the time's prevailing sad anxiety, provoking a dissatisfaction as dismal as the sight of a dropped dinner. And no, I have no idea what has aroused all this alliteration. Words are just running off on their own, and I lack the will to corral them.
I should probably eat something. All I've had this morning is my usual breakfast donut, this time with hot white coffee, but I can't think of anything else that appeals to me. Low grade aches have me disgruntled. Perhaps it's the persistent chill in the air. There's also a scent of wood smoke in the air, probably from somebody's fireplace, but it's a smell I no longer enjoy. I'll stay indoors, and maybe bake something to counteract both chill and odor. I've still got a frozen lasagna. A hot lunch would be a nice change. Other than that, just music videos on the Idernet, or perhaps an old radio show from Internet Archive. I don't feel like dealing with ideas today.
