Drink Your Dinner
Strange. I feel the vertigo most intensely when I get into work and, although it lasts through the day, it often tapers off by evening, as it did today. I feel relatively clear headed - tired, yes, but all the people in my section are tired - and ready for an active evening of sitting here at the computer and sipping whiskey. So I guess I'd better pour some more.
Monday and Tuesday I came home and crashed. I thought of doing the laundry, I needed to do the laundry, but blew it off. There was clean stuff down at the bottom of my dresser, but, you know, it's stuff you don't wear unless you have to, stuff you bought before you bought the stuff that needs washing. The laundry is running as I write. This is good. The two new lamps are lighting the far end of the living room. This is good. The sun is setting on the building across the street (and it's well after six) and I am, reliably I think, informed that we've entered spring. This is very good.
Weird, though, aren't they, all these ups and downs? One day I'm flying, the next day I'm crying. I sometimes wonder if this was my pattern when I was younger. Hard to say. Not sure I was conscious when I was younger. Alive, yes. Kicking, sometimes. Conscious? Not sure. Not sure I'm conscious today, but we're drifting here again, aren't we.
Emmy still hangs in the bedroom, her bedroom. I found a cat food she likes, though, the Fancy Feast Turkey and Giblets that comes in the little cans. I give her about a quarter of a can when I get up in the morning, another quarter when I leave, the third when I get home and the balance before I go to bed. This seems to work. No fuss from Ms. Emmy. I also bought a mixed case of cat food, a can or two of each of their flavors, and I'm going through the lot to find something else she may like. A can or so a day and the dry food will have to do. Her diet's probably better than mine.
My friend MSM has taken a job south of here in garlic country. Be fun to describe it, which I can't, not here, but it involves working with the users of exotic high powered road vehicles of a kind to make a man's mouth water. Fantasy stuff, all happening outside the city, outside the commute, a job that gets you out on the road every so often. I wonder what they use in the way of computers? Their web site could be better. But then my web site could be better. Much better. Here again I slide into blather. Somewhat edited semi-conscious blather.
Lots of news about the war, of course, none of it comprehensible. Makes you want to drink your dinner.