I've promised more than once to share some of my non-blog writings. I think I posted one short story. God, I hope I did. I meant to. Honest.
I'll look into that.
Anyway. I have a new bit of fiction for you today. But before I get into it . . . I feel . . . okay. Good, even, maybe? Definitely good compared to the last, what?, two years.
I still have weird dark what ifs jump into my brain from some other universe. Nothing that makes me worry I'm spinning out of control or might hurt myself. The very oddness of the them, while it makes me question what the hell is going on up in my lobes, kind overshadows the darkness. If that makes any sense.
Otherwise -- I don't physically hurt. The occasional minor pinch or strain around the incisions. A sinus headache most of this week. A pulled muscle or tendon or something under my right scapula. Things easily helped by a simple OTC pain relief med.
And mostly I don't feel tired. That's such a weird sentence for me to write. I can't remember when I wasn't always just bone weary exhausted. So yay for thyroid meds.
I'm afraid it's fleeting. That next week or tomorrow I'll wake from some anxiety-driven nightmare into a world too painfully bright for me to exist in. That every step, every movement will bring a new debilitating pain. So I'm trying to do as much I can while I can.
I'm powering through my online course, which is easy enough since I'm just in the first of, I think, eight courses and it's just nonscary introductory stuff. Pretty low-key, "hey you got this" point. I finished totally revamping my resume so it seems less staid and dated. I'm mentally doing yard work because we've got lows in the 30s again plus weekly tornadoes, so actual digging and planting is on hold for a few more weeks. I received an insane amount of spinach (don't ask) so I made (cheesy) spinach puffs for my Easter and (vegan) spinach puffs for work. I'm going on a mousie hunt for lost toys when I finish this post.
Which it's looking like I'll never do.
Sorry. I'm sweating from making the spinach puffs and I want to shower and I still need to find as many missing mousies as I can.
Tomorrow. I promise tomorrow's post will be a lovel bit of ridiculous fiction without any long rambling preliminary babbling.
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