Can’t Go Back

And here we are on Wednesday again.

It’s really amazing to me how sometimes it feels like the weeks just fly past; I think a lot of it has to do with Monday being my work-at-home day instead of Friday. By the time I come into the office what feels like Monday is actually Tuesday, and then Wednesday I wake up stunned that we’re already in the middle of the week. Maybe I should go back to working at home on Fridays instead? It’s definitely a thought. Working at home on Mondays has really kind of fucked with my sense of time and day and date significantly; not having cable television anymore has also messed with that since I no longer really pay much attention to what day of the week any show I am watching actually airs–I just check my “up next” list on the Apple TV every day and see what’s ready to be watched again.

So weird how my television viewing habits have changed so much since the introduction of Netflix, marathons, and binge-watching. I mean, I used to subscribe to TV Guide, which I don’t think even exists anymore, does it? Ch-ch-ch-changes.

I had a restless night’s sleep last night, spending most of the evening waking up every hour or two all night before the alarm finally went off this morning, so I suspect I will spend most of my day fending off the creep of weariness into my body. It’s very dark outside this morning, too. Heavy heaving sigh. I imagine the time doesn’t change until after Halloween–it’s been getting later and later it seems every year–but this getting up in the dark is very unpleasant and not conducive to me waking up. The weather has remained cool in New Orleans this week, too–not humid, mid to high 70’s, windy but sunny at the same time–which has been a very lovely thing.

I also rewrote Chapter Four yesterday; I took the 1677 words from the other day that were absolutely abysmal, picked them apart and pulled them back together, and wound up with slightly over 3000 words on the chapter yesterday, which was a pleasant surprise, particularly taking into consideration how tired I was when I did get home last night, having run some errands after work. Paul didn’t get home until late, and so we caught this week’s Reboot (seriously, this show is hilarious) and one of Little Demon, an animated Netflix show whose premise is the main character is the anti-Christ; her mother had sex with Satan and now the child is 13 and coming into her powers. It’s slightly twisted, obviously, so we clearly are enamored of it; I’m curious to see where it goes in the rest of the season, plus it’s also short–half hour, tops–which helps somewhat since we are always trying to find something to kill a half an hour with before we got to bed every night, and we should probably check out Abbott Elementary at some point.

But it felt good to start writing the book again yesterday; and it actually flowed relatively easily, too–which is always a plus; it means the well hasn’t run dry quite yet and I can still potentially write books. Saturday the LSU game is at the absurdly early hour of eleven, which means I can probably do things after two when the game is over–like run errands or clean or write–or I can spend the day reading with the football games on the television in the background. I need to finish reading my book because i’d like to revisit some horror this month before the month ends. I got my second monkeypox vaccination yesterday, and now to get the fourth booster for COVID at some point as well as a flu shot. I am hoping that continuing to mask this winter will help me get through any year without getting sick–really, what a difference wearing a mask has made these past few years; other than actually having COVID this summer, I’ve not been ill at all since the pandemic started, really.

Which is something I’ve never really understood about anti-masking, really; why wouldn’t you do something simple that would help you not get sick? Not just with COVID but every other germ and virus out there? I’ll show you libtards by spending the winter dealing with colds and the flu! FREEDOM! (Not to mention that even saying “libtard” is offensive to disabled people–I’m not insulted when someone calls me that, frankly, because it says everything about the speaker and nothing about me–because it’s a derivative of the pejorative term “retard,” which we really shouldn’t be saying in 2022 anyway. Ah, yes, the United States in the twenty-first century, when the words liberty and freedom have been so bastardized and robbed of meaning that now it essentially means I can be a complete and total asshole and tell OTHER people how to live!

Heavy heaving sigh. And on that lovely note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Wednesday, Constant Reader.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s