Marissa Lingen (mrissa) wrote,
Marissa Lingen
mrissa

16 again, or perhaps 2

Ista is at the vet having more fluids and having a vet keep an eye on her and making sure we're out of the woods on this nonsense. She wouldn't eat anything for me (or timprov or markgritter or my mom, in chronological order) this morning, but it turns out she had a few tablespoons of dog food hand-fed to her at the emergency vet last night, so that made me feel a little better. We're to get her in the late afternoon.

I am home by myself fussing getting useful things done. I borrowed my mom's car so I could run Ista to the vet and do some errands while markgritter and timprov are off with Zeph, and let me tell you, there is nothing to make you feel 16 again like borrowing your parents' Buick during a mixed rain-and-snowfall when you haven't had enough sleep and are anxious about something. I kept thinking, "Do not wreck parental vehicle, do not wreck parental vehicle," even though I have never wrecked a car, nor even slightly dented one, nor had mysterious and inexplicable plagues of wrecks or slight dentings close by me like some people in my extended family. (I believe my Gran did stop driving when she noticed that she hadn't been in an accident but the people driving behind her sure seemed to have a lot of them.) And if I had been in an accident, my parents would be the kind to fuss over me and want to make sure I was okay, rather than yowling at me and demanding that I pay every cent of etc. etc. (This is partly because that's the kind of people they are but also not entirely unrelated to the fact that I never have wrecked, slightly dented, etc.)

I am having great difficulty getting focused on things enough to get them done. I went to order some library books online, in case my to-read pile was insufficient to get me through World Fantasy Con. I kept looking at my library list and coming up with stupid reasons not to order one thing or another. Evelyn Waugh, for example, sparked Franklin Roosevelt's voice in my head, intoning, "I hate Waugh, Eleanaugh hates Waugh...." That level of reasoning. The "I can't read that book because it is green" level of reasoning. Also known to the external world as the "lack thereof" level of reasoning. If my brain was represented by a person right now, it would be about 22 months old, and its parental unit would have said, "I think someone needs a nap," and it would be running around shouting, "No nap! No nap! NOOOOOO nap!" and its parental unit would be quietly wondering if this was the fabled Terrible Twos coming early or if it was, in fact, going to get worse.

It may be that Jim and Melissa look at their wedding present and think to themselves, Gosh, it looks like this was wrapped by a two-year-old who needed a nap. And if they do, they will be right. Just not, y'know, literal.

This, too, shall pass. Mom and I will go fetch the bop. I will get news from the humans I'm worried about. The region formerly known as my wisdom teeth will heal. I will drink some water and take some deep breaths and vacuum some floors while no one else is around to be disturbed, and I will be kind to myself. Perhaps there will be a hot beverage. Yes. I can see the future, and it contains a hot beverage and a sit-down.

This is a good kind of prescience, I think.

(NOOOOOOO nap!)
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