(Also glad to have one less thing left uncertain around here.)
On Saturday at the Minicon LJ party,
And if I have to make it through this short story in paragraph-long sessions with breaks to let my ears settle, dammit, that is what I will do. Because enough. Enough of this. I'm tired, but I'm also tired of this.
Also I've ordered some things from the library. Comfort rereads have been the right thing, and they may continue to be the right thing, but I'm going to intersperse them with new stuff. New-to-me stuff, at least; I don't think Raymond Chandler counts as new to very many people.
You know that feeling you get when you've had the flu for several days, and you still have the flu and are nothing like well, but you're so sick of having the flu that you do things like hauling the laundry basket around totally unnecessarily because you are just so tired of having the flu? And then you have to go have some tea and a lie-down because you still have the flu, dummy!? I feel like I'm in that stage, and like it's going to last me weeks. I've had decluttering urges since almost the beginning of this PT stuff, and I'm not really steady enough to sort through the living room closet and reorganize that, or to go down to the basement to repack one of the boxes into something better organized and more proof against damp. So I am stifling the decluttering urges in one sense, and in another I'm trying to redirect them to things I can do without breaking anything.
I NEED PATIENCE RIGHT THIS VERY MINUTE.
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