Sunday, April 08, 2012

Soon enough

Today I feel worse. Yes, my sleep. This time I look at the clock when I'm awake too early -- I've actually slept six hours I guess, but that doesn't matter -- even when it's interrupted slightly early like this then the next day is a guaranteed mess. That's today: I'm a guaranteed mess.

When I'm a mess like this, doing errands is comforting. No: doing errands is a mess, because I'm a mess, but getting them done is comforting. Afterwards. Because they're done. Right now I'm just thinking about doing errands, which isn't that comforting, since I need help doing them and all I really want to do is to get back in bed. Except that I hate getting back into bed. That's when you know it's a really bad day: when what you hate is the only thing that sounds appealing.

Yesterday I got back into bed. And yes, actually I do like getting back into bed, it’s just the part about getting out of bed feeling worse or not worse but zombified, like part of my head is missing, the part that does the thinking but the part that does the feeling awful is definitely still there. Anyway, yesterday I got back into bed, and then I wanted to go to this party or actually I didn't want to go but I wanted to go and then when I got there I felt fine. You know how that works. But then I knew I shouldn't stay long because I would start to feel exhausted again, and then it would be awful getting home, and then I did leave before I felt exhausted but still it was awful getting home or maybe the getting home part was okay until I got almost-home and decided to stop at QFC to get some groceries and it turns out that now they don't have any cashiers at night, or later in the night, just those self-checkout machines and I was so annoyed about that I mean it wrecked me because I was so exhausted looking over and over again on the menu or the display of the machine, whatever it's called, looking for the right kind of kale which wasn't there and the person working for those six self-checkout machines didn't know what to do and eventually I just chose something else, but it wrecked me because I was already wrecked, right, and I'm always angry about those self-checkout machines because they just mean more people have lost their jobs but at this point hypoglycemia was kicking into my exhaustion and I was getting ready to lose it but fortunately I got home in time to rush into bed but not soon enough.

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