When I was a teenager with terribly oily skin, my grandmother told me that I was lucky because I would never get wrinkles. Now it feels like my clay-face has given me a natural bit of botox. Smiling feels unnatural. This day I went swimming. And did some other things, I think. Crap. I am being very forgetty. I swear I am not skipping my meds. I just feel like I am. I have failed to call my psych nurse practitioner. I am not sure what to tell her. Maybe that I would like a med check? Don't know. I feel something like an automaton. I am still haunting the garden, morning and night. Still checking on the growth of the plants. Obsessing about their state of health. Still mostly doing the things I need to do. But mostly the solitary things. Everything seemed broken this day. Dryer needs a part. Tried to repair screen door (but hinges so ancient I must re-do how it is hung). Laundry tubs did not drain. But I think it was due in part to exesssive rain. That problem seems to have fixed itself. When children are yelly I just want to hide and cry. Or pretend I don't hear them. And sometimes it might be fine-- let them figure it out. Since when I get involved in the yelliness, I just yell louder. Productive. Grateful Crap: automated things that keep me going. eat. drink. sleep. take meds. Daily Convexions: took meds time outside something in the garden, I'm sure. Oh... I think I built some steps and a seat for the daughter on the front hill. Comments are closed.
|
Archives
May 2020
Categories
All
K. BuchananQuaker, teacher, parent, |