I’m fine this morning but once again had abdominal discomfort last night. Not exactly pain, just weirdness, in more or less the same place as before.
Didn’t stop me from making salad, chicken thighs and baked yams for tea.
Now waiting for the Expanse season/series finale on January 14. Please, no asteroids strike the planet between now and then (although we had another near miss last night, did you hear about that? 1/4 the distance to the moon, that little rock whipped by…)
I am going to quite openly state that although I am not at risk of self-harm and I’m not in any danger, my mental health is as bad as it’s been since the pandemic started. I just don’t feel like doing anything. What’s the point? my poor raddled body brain thinks. So if you get a phone call from me it’s because I’ve bobbed up through this state of mind long enough to contact someone and be civil… the rest of the time I don’t even want to imagine how a phone call might go. And despite all this Jeff and I are prioritizing being civil to each other. The idea of going through this pandemic without peace at home makes me feel like lightning.
I’m so worried for Alex. Ryker is breastfed and his mother’s vaccinated so he’ll likely be okay, but Alex has asthma and I’m so scared for him. Who knows when in class instruction will start again. (oh, apparently it has already o.O)
I was working on a poem about the Moloch energy and now I can’t because the child sacrificer is standing right in front of us all. It’s terrifying.