I mean, did you not see the title and subtitle here? I am amazed that some people do not see the word Drama and even more amazed that some do not see the subtitle (also, creative play, self-mockery, emo-processing, psych-analysis, distraction therapy, archives, and more). Like, DUH! (not just duh, ya know). Yes, so the need today is for some serious and I mean serious distraction therapy because the leg hurts every time move. Don't say broken, it's not allowed.
Along with distraction therapy should come a lot of self-mockery if I am doing this right and some emo-processing, though I am over the pity-party I think (except when I think about how no one walked over to ask how bad the leg was after the game even though I was limping all the way to the parking lot, whatever, forget it... where the heck is the distraction and mockery already?), having gotten sleep and feeling mostly awake and reborn. You do know I am reborn each time I open my eyes, right? Though it works better after some good sleep now that I am old and crotchety. Blinking still helps, but not nearly as much as good sleep. Aging can be complicated for simple minds. Right, so anyway, definitely some psych-analysis will be involved if this goes well.
How are we doing so far?
The previous entry here and in the brief blog will explain more about the leg pain and swelling, in case it matters, so if you are interested, feel free to see for yourself how this blog works to live up to it's title and subtitle. The only emo left is the lonelies, but they are always fluttering about in the cranium and the severe pain just makes them flutter more noticeably. I know it is my choice, but it is not my wish (figure that one out, aye?... there was not room in the subtitle for and the occasional riddle, so just know it's meant to be there and consider it part of the other stuff because each of the creative play, self-mockery, emo-processing, psych-analysis, distraction therapy labels {yeah, labels, they overlap plenty and can be meaningless like most labels, but when in titles and subtitles, they mean a lot... I mean, they matter you did believe me, right?) can have a riddle or few.
Helen just texted wanting to know my schedule. She is a scheduler and planner. The two people close to me are very much like that, Harpo and Helen, and as I said, I know it is my choice (remember?), but I am not, in fact, I am quite the opposite of a scheduler and planner. Jackson isn't close anymore, in case you wondered why I didn't mention her as the closest to me, but we still share more similarities and connections inside than anybody either of us know, even if she tries to avoid or deny. She avoids much more than she denies, she just will rarely, if ever, admit it. Hey, it's not always self-analysis, psych. Get it now?
I may be in denial myself.
Maybe I am wallowing in negativity the way too much as Jackson seems to think (or so she used to tell me when I was depressed over suddenly losing a second job the same month we put Happiness to sleep and she told me she was moving out. Hey, major life changes can be traumas and they take a little time to process (and support helps, but I suddenly had zero and had to scramble to find some). So I ask you, ear readers. Reading the last 20ish years of my babblngs (no small task, so if you did or will do, amazing graces and lavish rewards are waiting for you right here if you ever get here, or leave a comment, even :)
So, reading the last 20ish years of my babblings, what do you think? Am I a depressive self-absorbed negative person no one wants to be around (except other negative self-absorbed depressive people because I do have more patience than that Job guy and listen so well it hurts sometimes) or do you see something in me that can be tolerated, enjoyed or desired or admired, even (I said or, but feel free to combine and add to the verbage... ad-verbage, even... nyuk nyuk?), I meam, in case it matters and all that Eeyore enthusiastic encouragement.
Dontcha feel motivated to spend a few months reading now?
Maybe I should start a blog entitled Positive Nonsense or Happy Happy Joy Joy or Humor for Depressed People or Suddenly Seymour or Marvin's Laughter or Eeyore's Optimism or... The Joy of Eeyore (not to be confused with The Joy of Sex. Why did Douglas Adams have to die? And why isn't the world, or more people at least, understanding his understanding is the understanding that can lead us to the understanding of how to live together and survive in this crazy mixed up universe where the needs of two people don't amount to a hill of beans except to the bean counters and the two people themselves?
It's working, I am not even thinking about the leg anymore.
Alas, if I only brought Helen's bag and money back to her last night before the game as I planned instead of napping and showing up groggy to the game, I wouldn't have to drive all the way to her place to drop it off now (with a stop at the bank along the way) and lower my leg from it's elevated position so the throbbing pain can start excruciating me again and I might not even have gotten hurt in the first place. Caffeine after naps, right.
Helen told me not to do anything today and to just rest my leg. Yay Helen, thank you. She may be the only person I could call to take me to the hospital if I couldn't drive myself and wanted to save the hundreds of dollars of the 911 route. I don't know what Jackson would do if I called her. That is a dam shame, not knowing, but whatever. Harpo would likely do it after a lot of frantic preparation, complaining, and rushing to get back to his mom and tilting at windmills. Tinman might, if he wasn't already occupied with his daughter somewhere. Eb might, if he was here and I let him drive my car. He rides a moped and I am not sure the last time he drove a car, if ever. The rest of the people I know are not close enough (in distance r in intimacy) for me to want to ask. As I said, it is my choice, just not my wish.
As for the leg (for a moment... actually the thought of food brings us to this brief incomplete assessment) I don't feel anything but slight pressure of the swelling and very slight pain only when I move it move it as long as it's elevated. Not sure what I'll do for fod. Order in or heat up something here (it's 62 degrees in this house so I don't want cold food). I can make oatmeal I suppose, that would probably be the least time on my feet. Chicken and pasta.soup would take longer. Both require washing a dish that needs some soaking time. Ordering in may be the least time on my feet of all the choices.
Eb has been out somewhere all morning. I wonder if he has a full day event for his campaign (I did mention he is running for some government office, didn't I? City Commissioner, I think. It would be a big change for this little city to have an elected official who is comfortable with all races in office. He's a rather liberal Democrat but the Dems won't touch him because they want the moderate and right vote in the fall elections so the Republicans are backing him, go figure. Couldn't be because he's a white man running against a blank woman, could it? You may have heard that politics makes strange bedfellows. Yeah, so anyway, this is the city of the infamous stand your ground shooting (murderer of unarmed teen let off scott-free and still able to carry his guns) and the County that has civilians in the Tax Collectors office carrying guns, after all.
So perhaps I am ready to consider food and other distractions. What's on the TV today?
Thank you for listening (reading, actually, but feel free to participate in any manner that is comfortable for you and if you want to chat, the number is on my Facebook and right here on this page, actually... definitely not the best day for the whole introductory first contact, but hey got for it if you can tolerate a bit of moaning and stir-crazy boredom... the ADD is strong in this one today, soon to be supplemented by anything within read... distraction therapy, remember?).
I'll likely be back sooner than usual. Cuz anticipation.
Oh, ketchup, spaghetti sounds good. lol lam
Narf :)
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