Managed to get through the week.
Thought we’d never get to #ThursdayDoors and Thursday Kittens — thank you for the extras, eschudel. Thought we’d never get home last night.
Chose side effects over pain this week.
Manic pace. Dizzying. Demanding. So walk, how peoples, many schedule, too much drive. Overdose of stimulation.
I prefer logging into the outernet daily, briefly, as is my accustomed manner.
Otherwise, I just like knowing there is there. You know, for my convenience.
I grog. My eyes burn, my hands are shot. My feet still move faster than the rest of my family’s, on the basis of my marching mind. Must. Keep. Going. I was in command of my legs, at least, “Look at me walkin all fast!” I said when I saw myself in the door reflections today. My tired, my secret, no one can tell. I look human, I only feel like trash. I waited for the place to clear out before exiting. Couldn’t maneuver through the crowd.
When we were leavin home this mornin, Sassy suggested, “You lika take cookie?” and I said, “No, is too heavy.” I’d already spent my energy on brushing my teeth and my mangled mane, and it would be hours before I could lift a fork of mandatory eggs to my lips. A cookie would not do. Can’t take the crash. Only savory food can keep Joeys goin.
I’d say this is a middle-age introvert problem, but my lil extrovert is plumb tuckered out, too.
When it came time to order her chicken and dumplins today, the waitress asked her what two sides — Moo’s brain went blank.
“She would like green beans and baked apples,” I said. Moo’s face lit up briefly, but then her eyelids slid down as she plopped her weary head onto her sister’s shoulder. She’s snuggled up with The Mister in my throw, “Oh look, it fell on me,” she said.
Sassy felt stuffed with pancakes and had taken to her bed, or, as she would say — gone to her cave to snuggle herself. She was so sick from exhaustion on Thursday, I couldn’t send her to school. That day off must have helped significantly, because, if you can imagine, she’s playing her cello right now.
The Mister is also tired, which he will tell you is because he is an old man. The Mister has been an old man for as long as I can remember. He’s older than me, so I will never, ever be old like him. He says his brain is cloudy and his body feels numb. I know he’s tired because he drank two whole cups of coffee and suggested I buy two tiny, overpriced jars of Dickenson’s preserves today, in flavors he doesn’t even eat.
And he informed me, “The Fuel Fairy filled your car up.” How romantic! I may let that gentleman manhandle me. But not now.
We’re dormant now. We cannot be moved. We’re goin nowhere and the only person allowed to visit is Mr. Sandman.
Sadie is so happy her people are home. All week it was, “Puppy not go” and those big brown eyes.
You know you’ve had a big week when you think man it’s gonna be great when i can stay home and do laundry saturday night!
Stream of Consciousness Saturday — SoCS ‘man’ is brought to you by LindaGHill