October 10th, 2013

2013, cyd, new

My tweets

2013, cyd, new

hours and hours and hours

i got up from my nap and started writing immediately. and i've just recently decided it's a Barry Manilow sort of night.

i've decided to use doc as my consultant on my book. he's good with the geo-political stuff that i'm not. he's actually really getting into my story. he likes the Michael Westen meets Cydniey auto-bio-fiction thing i've got going. i can't tell you how excited i am about my writing. i've discovered something, it makes me happy. i've always used it as therapy to get out the ugly and feel better, but just to write about autumn or something makes me happy. i felt guilty last night working on the book, because i was in hog heaven and doc was at work slogging away with the disenfranchised masses of call center misfits.

i told him this today, and he asked Chewy if he had taught me compassion. Chewy just sighed and snuggled tighter against me.

the weather has turned. i hope his sweater gets here sooner rather than later. it was too cold for him to take a walk this morning. he was running around the back yard like a mad hyena and STILL shivering. and i thought i was a pussy about the chilly weather. i know nothing. i am a warrior compared to this dog. it's funny, in the book, the main character's dog is really gutsy and the opposite of Chewy.

hours and hours later . . .

i woke up from yet another nap feeling a cold happening in my head and chest. doc's cool hand pressed to my hot forehead, "yeah, you're a bit warm", me clinging to his hand to keep it against my head. the cool felt so good. he got me a cool washcloth and took his hand back.

Chewy seems to understand i don't feel good, he's not hassling me. in fact, he's been asleep with his head on my lap for the last hour. i'm putting off my second cuppa and a smoke because i don't want to disturb him. and i'd have doc get me a cuppa but he's got a sleeping Leia on his lap, all curled up in his blanket in a tidy pile on his legs. he says he's going to hand her to me soon. he's jealous because she sleeps with me when i sleep because the dog sleeps with me and she wants to sleep with the dog. he's not sure what to do with her. she's too small to fight all the time like he does with the others, though they do roll around, Chewy and Leia.

more hours later . . .

i feel a little better. i was in a fugue state when i wrote that earlier. i got up, fought with doc, and went back to sleep. i woke up again and had some pizza and went back to sleep. i mostly remember Leia and Chewy on me at all times and me being unable to roll over or move because of it.

the foster lady from the animal shelter still hasn't called and Leia is almost out of medication. i have to get a hold of her tomorrow and find out what we are supposed to do.

i want to go back to sleep. i have to stay up and stuff smokes for doc for work and get him up when it's time. i don't feel like writing though. it's taking all my control to keep the cam on. i just feel so . . . blach. i hope this is the first and last sick of the season. maybe another in february, but i'm done for the year.

i wonder if Leia got me sick, is it possible for her to share her cold with me? god knows she's sneezed on me enough.
2013, cyd, new

hands on

on our last go-through in the garage last week, i found a box of precut yarn in every color of the rainbow and a blank latch-hook canvas. so i'm making a "confetti" rug. opening one color at a time and putting them randomly around the canvas, then moving on to the next color. i've finished red. i'm also taking pictures as i finish each color, so i can see the progressive work when i'm done. it gives me something creative to do that isn't writing. that way i don't get sick of writing. and i have the writing so i don't get sick of the rug.

once the rug is done, i'll start making jewelry again. i have several things designed, with the materials gathered that just need to be assembled. i'm just not in a jewelry mood right now. the rug will be good for me. and it will be for me, something i can put in my room when i'm done. the jewelry is for sale, not for me. i'm sick, i'm feeling selfish. i want something new and pretty and it doesn't exist so i'm going to make it and it will be just for me me me. and it's nice to work with my hands. gives my wrists a break from the constant typing.

i've been trying to write poetry in my paper journal. that way i can sit outside on the patio, where i get my best inspiration these days. then i come in and type it up and edit it. i have to remember to read them to doc before i post them anywhere because he often has ideas of things to add to the pieces. he had something to add to the one i wrote last night, but it was too late. now i have the idea for a whole new piece, i'm just not feeling it. i'm going to save it for sunrise because it's about the sun.

i've decided i'm only going to discuss politics with doc from now on. he reads a lot and he is very analytical, and with some things he has the inside scoop and he always educates me or makes me educate myself further. whereas political conversations anywhere else just result in stupid. and i'm really tired of stupid.

we've put all money spending on hold. should this thing with the debt ceiling implode, my check this month will be the last of its kind until the republicans figure their shit out. and i don't think our property management company is going to give a shit that i can't pay rent because i'm not getting my social security check. i'm sure they are already hearing it from furloughed people. but we still have to pay rent. doc was actually looking at delivering pizzas on the scooter for extra money if the GOP really does this. i'm totally against that, but what choice do i have? we have to make ends meet and can no longer rely on the government.

it would be so much easier if we dealt drugs. that's the only way to make a living in this city if you haven't gone to college or casino school. i don't think doc is cut out to be a dealer of either drugs or cards. we both dealt when we were kids, didn't everyone at one point or another to make some extra scratch? but that isn't a way of life we want. we hate the marijuana effect on our lives. we don't deal or share (no one to share it with) or distribute or any of that. but we always have to be afraid because of what we do in the privacy of our own home. fucking pathetic. i feel like a junkie because the pot does make me feel better, but it is an illegal drug. even when i get my medical card, which my doctor is 100% behind and will do everything to help me get it but prescribe it for me, it will still be federally illegal. it shouldn't be.

how did i get off on that tangent? for all my noise, i'm now scared about the government goings on. now it's going to affect me, and not just by preventing me from going to the lake. it's harder to make the noise now. $752 isn't a lot to live off of every month when your rent is $500 and your meds $100 and your electricity and water $50. then little things like tampons and toilet paper. i don't have to bleach my hair. i don't have to shave, these are places i can save money. but there are some things that will not be deferred, i don't care what the republicans say. the national debt has nothing in common with the household budget. if for no other reason than we can't print our own money to pay our bills. the country can.

shit, time to get doc up.

have a nice night.