Starting off the week with the urge to make a burn pile out back and drag a few big sackfuls of junk out and watch it all disappear. I used to do that every little bit in my younger days, not really back in good enough shape for a controlled burn yet. That's one of the cooler things about living way out of metro proper, you can satiate the pyro within with a good trash pile. Great stress relief.
I'm in one of my more practical moods. Time to throw the jackolantern off the deck and see if I can hit a tree and watch it explode. Drag rugs out and then stuff them into the washer. I keep saying I'm going to dump out a few drawers, well, maybe this is the week. Wow, I had no idea pink jackolanterns were so popular. Click that.
I've had this wild idea for several days that I need to plow through my spirals and completely reorganize my thought compilation and gathering method. Have started making notes on a couple of other books. I really need to just sit and type till I fall over. Which is, sadly, faster than most writers. I read their little advice posts about devoting so many hours blah blah blah. I'm one of those severe fibro people, my arms, wrists, and hands literally react to everything I do. The live tweet last night? I laid in bed rubbing out a charlie horse the length of my forearm and into my thumb for nearly 20 minutes, and the nerve clear up to my shoulder felt like a mad itch deep inside. The only thing I ever tried that stopped all that was Lyrica, but alas, I'm one of those 'if you experience mental changes' people who scared the doctor silly with descriptions that sounded like I dropped acid, so just hafta live with the urge to stab blunt objects deep into the nerve or body slam myself against door frames. If I could sit comfortably for hours like gamers and do whatever I want with my hands for hours, I'd never stop typing. And I'm not even mentioning my eyes. I have finally reached a comfort level looking at black and white on my monitor. I used to couldn't read black and white on a glowing screen for several years. I'm elated that I don't have to colorize everything any more and that I can read actual books now when I feel like it. But again, I still have my time limits and then I hit walls. Imagine forgetting to put money into your eye meter and you're caught flat footed when the time runs out and suddenly you can't make your eye work. Fibro in the ol' eyeball. The muscles just freeze up, like they do in the rest of my body.
O_O I need these... $163, dang.
Okaaayyyy. This is me completely off chocolate for 6 weeks now. It's a histamine thing. Chocolate is one of the biggies for spiking histamine levels even more when they're already spiking, so I'm still being careful about what I eat. Huzzah if you don't have allergies and think I'm being silly. Go away. Or better- go make these and stuff your mouths with them because I can't have any. Yes, they're real.
I'm going to press this screen against my eyeballs now.
Um... K, this totally cheered me up. --> Pink Spock <-- lots of stuffs.
Uh, oh. And then I looked up at my muted TV on the Weather Channel and saw this. Another Pinky is having a much worse day than me. I will go forth and think nice pinky thoughts. The world needs more good vibes.
Let's go have a good day, guys.