Reset Forty-Seven, Day Sixty

[rejectomorph]

Getting through the vague days with naps and snacks, not much caring that I'm not doing much, except for now and then scolding myself for being such a slug, then laughing it off, providing nothing hurts enough to discourage a laugh. Sometimes something does. Then I usually get nostalgic for some time when nothing hurt, and then feel sorry for myself until I get distracted by something like hunger or the need to take a leak. Life, I must conclude, is annoyance and utter trivia lost in the immensity of a grandiose universe.

The chill has been relentless tonight. I found myself unable to stay asleep during my evening nap, as I kept waking up when my feet got our from under the covers and got cold. I have no idea why my feet keep trying to escape. Probably something to do with the swelling. There's another storm on the way, expected to strike early Sunday morning, and it's bringing a wind advisory that lasts into Monday afternoon. That's going to be cold too. I might have to heat up some soup to get through that.

I think I should be paying attention to something, but I forget what. Maybe I should just try to sleep. But first, The Galaxy Song, from Moty Python. It suits my mood.

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Comments

[zippybeta]

Why don't you go to the Dr and get those feet looked at?

[rejectomorph]

I'll probably get around to it eventually, but I haven't been to any doctors other than a chiropractor and (once) a dermatologist (unless you count dentists and optometrists as doctors) for going on forty years, so there's a lot of inertia to overcome. Plus, procrastination is my forte— perhaps even my raison d'être. I'm really, really good at it.