I am very angry that someone turne the themostat in my roo ro absolutely nothing ,cause my living environment to be essentially unheated and open to the weather one day where very high winds are sucking all the heat out of my open windows.

This caused me to wake up incredibly cold. As in, I was shivering so hard that could barely use my table, and the cold as usual gave me all kinds of painful muscle spasms and pain all through the muscles of my legs.

My arms and wrists too. Joy.

Because I woke up in pain, I was not very coherent and therefore couldn;t plot a sensible course out of of this frigid morass.

All I could do was lay in bed and sort of flail around trying to move in he general direction of escape even though I had no idea what that was.

I was almost completely disoriented for a while. And I hate that. I did not know up from down or left from right.

And the whole time, I was really mad. about the whole thing. Once more, somebody, probably Joe, had turned mt thermostat all the way down causing me to be cold as ice in the middle fucking August.

It was a total failure of homeostasis. And I am still suffering the side effects. I have cramps and charlie horses all through my body, and I stll feel pretty fucking cold because I am not self-heating efficiently

My back aches like someone stuck me with a pitchfork. and any kind of movement sets off off a string of neuromuscular fireworks as painful cramps pop all over me.

It hurts so much it makes me whimper like a kicked dgf.

And all because apparently my muscles react very badly to being cold. The charlie horses and cramp are part for the course when this kind of thing happens.

And all because Joe can’t stop himself from turning the thermostat all the way down when he is leaving I room.

Is it anyone wonder that I am a tad miffed?

So I am going to have to confront him about this and stick up for myself for once. I am pissed off solid about this incident and I want some degree of justice.

And I am going to stick with it and not buckle under like I have done so many times in the past. Doing what makes others happy, not me.

It’s so hard to tell the difference sometimes. My soul is such a crazy funhouse sometimes. Hard to tell what’s real and what is merely a reflection,.

Jesus Christ, I still have 68 words left to write. This is going mighty slow tonight. Feels like every damned word is a piece of shrapnel plucked painfully from my wounded flesh.

I want to go to the good cage.

I

I don’t even give a fuck any more. Fuck everything forever.

More after the break.

s

i fuckd up

What was I thinking, giving myself only 45 minutes to do 500 words? Talk about overconfidence.I really doubt I will make it but I will go down tryin’.

Hell, it’s more like 30 minutes because it took my groggy ass so long to get out of bed. Sometimes the mere act of getting out of bed seems like a marathon up a mountain.

This has definitely been one of those days. Oy.

I feel very washed out and fried right now. Trying to make the words happen is like trying to get blood from a very tired stone. If I had my druthers. I would just go back to bed and keep on sleeping till I was done.

Wouldn’t that be nice?

But no, I have less than half an hour to get like 400 words out, so all I an do is write these words stream of consciousness style and get as much done as I can/.

It’s been a rotten day. All that muscle pain from the long term effects of waking up freezing fucking cold this morning has colored the whole day. as has a general tiredness and soreness that disturbed my sleep and kept me from resting properly.

Oh well. I am rugged, I am tough. I will weather all this bullshit until it passes and then go on with my fucking life.

Such as it is.

I don’t like my life. This is not who,. what, or where I want to be. If things had worked out the way they were supposed to do, I would have gotten my grad degree in my 20’s – probably a Masters in Psychology – and I would have had my own private practice where I helped my patients with kindness, attentiveness. sympathy,. empathy, and all the other wonderful skills I have for dealing with people’s problems.

That sounds so good to me. I would love to have a life filled with purpose and accomplishment like that. That’s totally how things were supposed to work out.

Instead, my selfish bastard parents were true to their Boomer generation and they decided that what they wanted – early retirement – was obviously far more important than letting my brother Dave and I finish out degrees like they had promised to do for us over and over during my childhood.

I guess, in retrospect, I wa foolish to trust them to come through for me. I naively thought they would pay for my undergrad degree like they had promised..Silly me, thinking my parents would treat me anywhere near as well as they had treated my sisters when they got their degrees,

Don’t I know that I was never even close to being as valuable and important as the other two? I wasn’t even suppoed to be alive, let alone have needs.

My family dynamic was seriously fucked up.

And now here I am, 50 years old and nowhere within a country mile of growing up. Instead, I have a terrible weakness inside me that makes a normal life impossible.

You can’t put weight on a broken limb, and I can’t put weight on a broken soul.

I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.