I wouldn’t recommend it.
Took a nap this afternoon and woke up at 7:45 pm. That means I slept for almonst fours hours when I thught I just needed to rest my eyes for a bit.
Must have needed it pretty bad.
I was up till 8:30 am last night/today, so that probably didn’t help matters. But I have been awake four 45 minutes now and I still feel like shit.
To me, every time I go to sleep, I risk waking up feeling a lot worse than I did when I went to sleep.
That should not even be possible. That should not even be a thing.
So right now, I feel quite dizzy. Every time I move my head, I feel the fluids in my skull sloshing in the same direction and it makes me feel like my head weighs 20 pounds and is filled with Jello.
If’s you’re a non-transexual sissy, that makes you a cississy.
As a result of this dizziness, ze word, zhey do not come easy right now. Typing feels like trying to play darts on a ship at sea in rough weather.
I was on a ferry in rough weather once. Luckily, I was young and healthy and energetic, so to me, it was a wacky adventure. People lurching about, small items rolling back and forth on the floor, deciding I didn’t need to pee that bad…
Did not occur to me that I could have done it sitting down. Probably would not have done it anyhow, though.
We men have complex feelings about such things.
I still can’t believe there are households where the men have to sit down when they pee. Like it’s a rule.
First of all, how the hell is that enforced? Random inspections? Some female member of the household suddenly barging in to make sure your peeing is up to code?
If they tried that with me, they should be warned, the first three rows WILL get wet.
Barring such monstrous offences against human dignity, it’s pretty much on the honour system. You can pee however you like and nobody will know. You could whizz while doing a handstand and eating a banana and that would be your little secret.
Provided you do not leave a mess, of course. That is the actual, sane rule : don’t leave pee on things. It’s gender-neutral and more than reasonable and it doesn’t make anyone feel persecuted.
And honestly, having that kind of rule in place is, to me, a clear sign that morale is dangerously low and that a situatuion wherein both the victor and the vanguished are worse off than if the battle had never occurred.
The vagina-bearing members of the household might feel like they won a victory against the evil forces of male crudity. but at what cost?
Can you truly say you repsect the penis-bearers of the household as much as you did before this little tussle?
This is true of all emasculating victories in the war between the sexes. It always leads to a loss of respect for the males. Which cna lead to further assaults on masculibnity because, subconciously, the females want that respect back and so they want to see the male(s) fight back and show some spunk.
Don’t leave spunk on things either, guys.
I’m with my Dad when he says that everyone is healthier and happier when there is gender balance. And that includes a power balance. If either side gets too big of an upper hand, things get toxic and ugly and abusive.
Anyhow. So today has not been great. Not terrible, but a lot less than wonderful. The negative side of bleh, I suppose.
Tomorrow is Xmas eve. I don’t have anyone’s gift yet. Whatever. I have been quite ill with the depression lately and therefore performing below my usual “bare minimum on a good day” ;level of functionality.
I wish I could reboot myself. Restore everything to lab-tested factory defaults. Start over with fresh, healthy blood, no toxins in my tissues, ganglia and synapses cleansed and polished and ready to go to work.
The fog in me is thick these days. I try to fight it and forcve my mind into a state of clarity, but all I can seem to do is see the fog more clearly.
It’s like cleaning the lens of a kaleidoscope. All it does is make it easier to see the incomprehensible swirls of colors better.
Had to take another nap in order to recover from the first one.
I think it was a net gain. Hard to be sure.
I think my sleep apnea is getting worse. That’s what untreated illnesses tend to do, after all. I am pretty sure that I have been rocking a very low blood oxygen level lately and. combined with the high blood sugar level from my untreated diabetes, I think it is safe to say that if blood tests were real tests, I would fail.
I feel like a satellite in a decaying orbit, slowly spiraling downward and unable to do a damned thing about it except watch as I get closer and closer to crashing.
Except in this case, crashing will likely mean ending up in the hospital.
I’m getting that urge to walk away from it all again. To set fire to my life and watch it burn, then walk off into the sunset, free and alone and unattached.
It is, I admit , a rather radical way to reboot myself.
But it would feel so good to get out of my own shadow and start anew. Right now, I feel trapped by my life. Trapped by who I have been and who people know me to be. Trapped by memories of failures and the knowledge of how much life I have missed. Trapped by my own dowward spiral.
Trapped into being this pathetic version of myself.
It makes me want to move someplace where nobody knows me so I could reinvent myself and make my life a better expression of who I am.
Again, that’s a radical solution, and there are probably less extreme ways to accomplish more or less the same thing.
But sometimes I look out the window and dream of escape.
I want to fly away forever.
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.