Definitely feeling like Mister Sandman has me trapped in a desert of sleep sand today. I am still incredibly sleepy right now, and I slept at least teen hours already. Looks like it is one of those days.

It does not feel like it is just the after-effects of taking two Quetiapine, either. I can tell how that feels now, and this is not just that.

No, sadly, I think I am host to some kind of infection, the same one that took my friend Joe out of the action yesterday. For him, it started in his throat then moved up into the head.

And just today, I noticed I have a tickle in my throat and a bit of difficulty swallowing. Uh oh.

And now I definitely feel that dragged out and tired feeling you get when you are sick and your body is using up a lot of its energy and resources just fighting the infection.

And I feel kind of icky, too. That icky-sicky feeling where you feel all gross from sick sweat and fluid accumulating in places and so on. So I guess it is official : I am sick.

Hopefully, it will not last too long or get too bad. Joe says he feels a lot better today than he did yesterday, and so hopefully, it is a 24 hour bug, or thereabouts. It still sucks to be sick, of course, but I would rather it was over quick.

It is when the illness just hangs on and hangs on that it gets depressing.

I will likely go right back to bed when I am done writing this. We have plans to go see Felicity again tonight, and I am looking forward to that. But I might be too tired to go, which would suck big time. I will do my best to rest up a lot beforehand.

And hopefully have time to get fully cleaned up before we go. Oh well, Joe does not work tonight, tomorrow being a stat holiday (Canadian Thanksgiving, for you non Canadians) and therefore there is no hard and fast reason we have to get out the door at any particular time.

So even if I sleep too long, I will probably be able to beg Joe’s indulgence for a quick shower. I hate delaying things, but sometimes there is no way around it.

I will just have to take a nap and take my chances.

Speaking of going to visit Felicity, I am happy to go see her, but I will sure be glad when her parents are back this Friday, the 12th. I am never entirely comfortable at her parents’ place. And of course, when she is not housesitting, we hang out here at the apartment, and that is a much more comfortable for an agoraphobic like myself than going out to the Big Bad Outside World.

On the other hand, her parent’s place has her cat Nero in it, and I am always glad to see him. I love cats so much. He is a fraidy cat, so I do not exactly get unfettered access. Usually, Felicity has to go get him and bring him to us, and even then, he is usually eager to get away from all the strange people. (Trust me, kittums, I can relate. )

But sometimes I get to pet him and rub his chin and make him purr and tell him what a sweet kitty he is, and that makes me happy.

I miss having critters around so much. I would love to have a place of my own and a couple of cats wandering around being adorably feline. I am pretty sure I could resist the urge to be a “crazy cat person” and end up with a ton of cats. For one thing, their happiness would be paramount to me, and cramped kitties are not happy kitties.

Plus, I think I could refuse people who come around and say “We heard you like cats… these kittens don’t have a home!”. That is how it starts, you know. Someone knows you have a couple of cats, and shows up with kittens in a cardboard box, hoping you will not have the heart to turn them away.

And then, once you say yes once, word somehow gets around that you are a “cat person” and other people show up with their boxes of kittens, and you can’t say no to them all, and the next thing you know, you are buying those enormous bags of dry cat food and taking them back to your cat packed apartment and wading through ankle deep shed fur (and worse) in order to feed them, which feels increasingly less like an act of kindness and more like an act of appeasement lest one night they decide to eat you in your sleep.

So the secret is to never say yes to more cats in the first place. Eventually, word will get around that you are no easy target, and kitten pushers should look elsewhere.

Still, it would be nice to have some kitties to pet and cuddle up with and dote upon. It would be about the right amount of responsibility for me. Cats are fairly low maintenance. Keep the food and water bowls full and clean the kitty litter now and then, and kitties take care of everything else themselves.

And for that, you get a charming and affectionate little purrball who will be your companion for 15 years or more and who will add so much love and laugher and yes, even chaos to your life that it almost seems unfair that you should get so much for so little.

Oh well, some day I will have it together enough to live on my own again, and that will definitely involve a couple of kitties of my own. I have never had my own pets, so I look forward to that day.

I will even get to name them. So many possibilities.

Maybe I will name them after my meds. Here, little Quetiapine!

Eh, maybe not.

Seeya tomorrow, folks!

Or what passes for a life around these parts, anyhow.

Saturday, as always, had been quite quiet. Last night, we kept Felicity company while she takes care of house and cat.

We hung out and watched videos and ate MacDonald’s. I had the ten McNugget meal. I do not know why, but there is something in the McNuggets which is very soothing to my digestion. I assume it is something in the spice mix, although other spicy foods do not necessarily have the same effect.

Chipotle, for instance, nearly freaking kills me now.

But I have had surprisingly tummy calming effects from spicy-ish foods before. Things like onions and green pepper have proven quite soothing to my sensitive systems before, even though other people find those kinds of things quite a digestive challenge.

My homebrew sinus cure is to make a toasted cheese sandwich loaded with onions and garlic. Tastes fantastic, clears out my sinuses, and soothes my digestion all at once.

As a matter of fact, I am about due for one of those. My allergies are always at their worst in the spring and in the fall. And it is definitely fall.

For the most part, I love Fall, especially early and middle fall, before it gets seriously cold. I love the cool yet sunny days (always my favorite kind), I love the crisp night air and brilliant skies full of stars and the smell of leaves and chestnuts and the coming of winter. I love how the leaves scoot down the street in the fall breezes, and how it is suddenly time for sweaters and fireplaces and hearty fare.

I like the Spring, too, for it brings a lot of good things as well. But I think I like the Fall just a little bit more. There it always a special, mystical feeling in the night air on a cold, clear autumn night. A feeling like something magical is happening just beneath the surface, in the shadows or in the air. A very Halloween kind of feeling.

And I love Halloween. It is the perfect holiday for people like me who love a good scare and who feel oddly close to the ghosts and goblins and things that go bump in the night. Perhaps it is because some of us dwell so long in the dark and the cold that it begins to feel like home to us, and who therefore come across as kinda spooky to those who know only the light, and who banish all they cannot handle into the unknowing darkness, where the likes of me can find it and make it part of our own shadowy world.

And of course, this is where we get our strange powers and unusual perceptions, and this only increases the aura of dark power we seem to possess. But it is not really so dark and dangerous to us who live on this side of the mirror. To us, it is simply reality as it is, warts and all.

So really, Halloween, to someone like me, is that one night of the year when everyone is as weird as they are, or at least tries to me. Welcome to the show, folks. I will be your host, guide, and entertainer. Just watch what you touch, and remember, while you will all go home tomorrow, some of us live here.

And maybe, just maybe, one or two of you will decide to stay.

Otherwise, nothing much happening in this so called life of mine. Still floating along without a paddle, getting nowhere but closer to death. I am trying to be patient with myself and tell myself that I am still healing, still recovering from 20 years of depression, and that I can’t beat myself up for not doing things which might not be possible for me yet.

But it gets so frustrating. I want to be more than I am so badly, and I can feel the creative energies surging within me, seeking release. I know that I have the potential to be something truly amazing and really make my mark upon the world with my intellect, creativity, perceptions, and wackiness. But always, my fears keep me on a short stiff leash, and I can’t just reach out and grab all the things that seems so very close at hand.

It is tantalizing, frustrating, and depressing. I know that if I could just make peace with it, I would save myself a lot of fruitless heartache and stress and pain. There is no point in becoming angry with what you cannot yet do. In fact, it is probably directly counterproductive.

But emotions do not go away simply because you realize they are futile. So the frustration and anger will remain until I reach a point where I can truly let them go and head out into the world with my eyes, and my heart, wide open.

I can’t say when that will be, or what will happen then. I really want it to be before I hit 40, but the clock is running down on that pretty fast, so the odds seem pretty long. I know that unless I get some sort of something going, something that makes me feel I stand a chance of escaping my sad and pathetic little life, that 40th birthday is going to be pretty damned hard on me.

I may need to make sure I am not alone at all for a while before and after. Self-harm is a distinct possibility. It is not pleasant to think about, but part of dealing with mental illness is learning to see problems coming and plan ahead, instead of just letting life smash you down all the time because you refuse to take personal responsibility for your fate.

Similarly, I should start thinking about what I will be doing and where I will be for Xmas Eve this year. It is a very dangerous time for me, all alone while others are with their families. My family is a whole continent away. Not good.

Maybe this will be the year that I actually find an event to go to, and do that, instead of just staying home and being sad.

Or maybe it won’t.

Either is fine, really.