After a week off, I’m back to doing what I do on the weekend. Pretty much. I’m on puppy duty after an unspeakably long Friday.

It’s a situation where I’ve been handed something that, yes, I’ve done in hte past, but I really don’t have a good idea what’s going on, and my physical limitations are really negatively affecting my performance.

Maybe I’ll be better when I head there next week to try again. Maybe I’ll have more energy because I won’t have been trapsing around a very notable NoVA landmark.

Navigating that place is difficult for healthy people. For someone with the various malaise I have, it’s damned near impossible.

Even moreso when the neat indices are flirting with triple digits.

Thankfully, Remy, who’s written artfully about the Metro, perfectly-encapsulated the mood among the rich men North of Richmond.

I think I got the WMATA short bus stuff figured out again. Need to have some more papers filled, and probably go into the District for an are-you-really-disabled exam.

Am I Sofa King done? *shrug*

I’ll keep trying until I can’t anymore.

Kind of how I roll. Always has been. But, legitimately, I’m near the end. A bit depressing?


Have I been listening to Exile In Guyville for unknown reasons? Yep.

A lot of the thinking this morning is flavored by the latest WTF episode. Don’t wanna hear what I have to say? Okay. I’m going to keep doing and thinking what I want. I can leave.

But I am tired, and having vague flashes of dread about the full dose of the medication Tuesday.

Do I alter my plans to potentially accommodate a negative reaction?

I don’t know.

And worrying about it isn’t going to do me much good.

So, while I’m responsible for the dog the next couple of days, I’m going to try to enjoy that as much as I can.

And I guess we’ll see how the week plays out.