The “it” being just how disabled I am at any given moment.
As in, yesterday, I felt reasonably good. Moving around didn’t hurt too much and I felt reasonably strong and alert. I was doing alright.
And yet, today, I have that terrible heavy feeling again. Even just getting up to get water from the bathroom makes me feel like I am wearing a cement suit. Just going to the kitchen to grab a can of pop and come back has worn me out like a brisk hike.
I suspect that the problem is that I’m dehydrated. That happens so easily now. Not only is the summer heat draining my fluid reserves to produce sweat, but the miracle of Jardiance controlling my blood sugar comes at the price of my body having to manufacture a lot of urine because that’s how Jardiance smuggles the sugar out of your blood and out of your body.
And just as I am typing that, Julian knocked on the door to say goodbye for now and I was able to ask him to get me some nice cold clean water from the Brita pitcher in the fridge, and thus provide me with some high quality hydration.
I still wonder if Brita water only tastes better because it’s cold.
I guess I would have to do a blind taste test, Brita water versus refrigerated unfiltered tap water, to figure it out.
You know, for science.
Anyhow, we will see if I feel perkier once I have more water in me. Luckily, the water from the Brita should at least give me enough energy to get more water from the sink in my ensuite should I feel the need.
And I will try to keep dark thoughts about whether I am going to fall apart and end up in the hospital full of tubes before dying a stupid and tragic death out of my mind.
Because hey, it’s a beautiful sunny summer Sunday, I am going to have dinner with my friends at Denny’s not too long from now, and there is no need to dwell in the darkness when there’s lots of light to be had.
On the bedding front, both my new sheets and new blanket have arrived and have been removed from their Amazon boxes. Now I just need to clear about half of the space on my bed so I can lay them out and cuddle into them for a good night’s sleep.
And therein lies the problem. I should never put another task to be done before deployment of my new bedding. That creates a classic gumption trap where I need to find the motivation to do thing A before I can do thing B and that is already too complicated for my very weak id to handle.
And I wish I was not like this. I wish I could just decide to do things and do them instead of ending up stranded in a no man’s land of dithering and indecision all the time. I wish I had the force of will and the drive to make my will manifest in the world instead of constantly crouching behind my invisible wall hoping nobody notices me.
While at the same time being desperate for attention.
I’m a complicated man. And no one understands me but…. umm… no, that’s is. Nobody understands me, period.
. Not even my therapist gets me. He couldn’t handle the “real me”. No one can.
That’s why all anyone gets from me is a version of me. It isn’t fake or an illusion because everything in it is 100 percent me.
But it’s nowhere near being all of me. Let alone the “real” me.
I’m not a teenager. I can’t just let loose with all my emotions and then sort through them to figure out who I really am.
My shit has consequences. The volcano at my core is mighty angry.
And it makes me feel like if I relaxed my self-control, I would go crazy and end up hurting a lot of people before I found my new equilibrium.
It’s not worth it. Yet.
More after the break.
So Biden dropped out
I learned about this hours ago and my jaw is still on the floor.
I mean, it makes sense in retrospect. All those fucking traitorous and hysterical liberals calling for him to step down as if that was going to improve their odds of beating Trump.
Um, no. This is actually the worst thing that could have happened on the Democrat side, because there is no Barack Obama waiting in the wings to swoop in and take up the nomination and inspire people to vote in record numbers on a wave of hope and inspiration and determination to make things right.
Biden getting Covid was presumably the last straw for the poor guy. He’d already been stabbed a million times by members of his own party and was bleeding out, but the Covid probably made him feel like this time, he was not going to be able to get up off the mat and keep fighting.
And all because his poor debate performance made liberals panic and turn on him because now he had loser dust on him and they lacked the emotional maturity to see that he was still their best bet for beating Trump.
You’ll note that the right wingers would never do what the lefties did to Biden. That’s because unlike my fellow liberals, they understand loyalty.
Now we’re fucking doomed. There is nobody who can replace Biden and have even half the chance of winning he did.
Camela Harris sure as hell can’t do it. She’s the only vice president to make even fewer public appearances than Dick Fucking Cheney. She clearly knows that she is NOT a politician and has negative public appeal and for her, engaging with people can only lead to disaster.
There’s one way she might win, though. She needs not just to run against Trump, but to prosecute him. That’s her greatest strength. She is one hell of a tough prosecutor and she’s potentially going up against a very wimpy and vulnerable criminal.
She is well equipped to lock on to Trump and just keep hammering away at him until she has reduced him to a blubbering incoherent mass of malfunctioning grey matter who can barely even cry for momma any more.
She might not be able to win the election, but she can make Trump lose it.
But she has to give up on the false liberal ideal of niceness. Fuck being nice. Trump is the biggest threat the USA has faced in my lifetime. The time for playing nice is over and it’s time to go to war and go for the jugular.
I’d rather be a bastard that wins than a nice guy who would rather lose than do anything that the liberal masses might see as “mean”.
After all, being in power might mean making tough decisions.
Better to just let the world burn as you keep your hands clean.
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.