The "polar vortex" is kicking my ass. I know I am not the only one, but I am also not inclined to feign any cheeriness about this. Cabin Fever. Followed by, apparently, real fever.
I think I might possibly have taken my meds this day. Later I found out that I did remember to reorder the ones that I like so well (apparently on the 25th) but I neglected to remember that. Also, not knowing that I had reordered them, did not pick them up.
Got puppy linux working on my old machine. I got wireless working. I got the projector working. I felt almost godlike. Not really. I more felt like a brain surgeon. Or a brain re-builder.
At some point (possibly due to absentminded medicating, possibly due to feverbrain) making the machine work became some sort of horrible real-life poetic metaphor for having a working brain (not plagued by recurrences of Depression crap... like I could maybe get an upgrade to my own operating system and bypass all this stupid work to fight it back)
So that instead of
a) appropriately dealing with the medication situation
b) getting enough sleep
c) stayed up feverishly working to make some obsolete computer come back to life
d) it was something tangible that I could fix
Quaker, teacher, parent,