Writing again because, well, this was something I could do to slightly quash my racing mind.
I think we might be past the peak on summer heat, but it’s been a very uncomfortable summer so far.
I still have an irrational resistance to eating oysters in a month that doesn’t have an “R” in the name, but, I dunno, just feels like something you do when you’re not sweating through your clothes.
Speaking of comfort, I’m actually wearing basically business-casual stuff today. Nursing just ice water as I wait for my ride into the District to go be a lab rat for a few years.
I took a quick glance at what it’d cost me to get rides to/from Biloxi and New Orleans. Um. Okay. I’ll pass.
Let’s get into it.
I don’t remember if i mentioned it, but these where from a deck of writing prompts I got, I think, for Christmas last year.
I scanned them using the Google App, and copied-and-pasted them using the inbuilt OCR.
That this can happen now is fucking awesome.
I anticipate it’ll have as much problems understanding my chicken scratch as my teachers and professors did, but I’d imagine there might be something in my mother’s garage that’d be worth trying to capture.
How do I listen to my body, and when do I tend to ignore it?I
The short answer to this one is, “I don’t.” The longer answer is, “I don’t, because what my body tells me is so often just complete nonsense.”
Am I uncomfortable? Pretty much all the time.
Am I hungry?
Am I nauseated?
The psychologist I’ve been seeing has helped me a lot with those, but I still have problems from time to time.
Am I exhausted?
Yes, but I’ll ignore that until I collapse, which probably isn’t a good thing.
I think we’re running. Back tomorrow.