December 12th, 2015

2013, cyd, new

There is this Problem in my Dream.

It is a problem I have had for three days now. I go to sleep and dream of this problem. I can’t articulate it when awake. I told Doc it was a mathematical-linguistic problem. But there is measurement and balance involved. It’s so clear as soon as I lose consciousness. And when I bring myself around, I try to grasp it, to maybe apply some real world logic to it. But reality cannot hold this and it skitters away. I have a feeling I’ve solved it, just not been able to execute the solution correctly. Doc is little help, he forgets most of what I say in my sleep, even though he talks to me when it happens and tries to comfort me.


Today’s high was last night at midnight. 61 degrees. It’s still 50-something out there, with a cool breeze. It’s hot in here, and I’m running a fever again, so I keep running outside to play with the animals or have a smoke. At least I’m wearing pants today. I can’t decide what medication to take. Sudafed, of which I have plenty, but it is not as effective; or, Day-Quil, which is my last dose, but will make me feel much better. Hrm. I hate winter. I can’t believe I may have to move back east again and deal with that half a year of death and cold. I fucking hate that idea.


I told Kelli I couldn’t go back to Philadelphia. I would get off in Pittsburgh and she and I would rent a warehouse space and be wild artists. And I would hide all winter and not make personal appearances. I don’t want to talk about it. It’s a fate more horrible than death and it’s coming up in the new year, and I just don’t want to think about it. I will just say, I’m not a caregiver.

2013, cyd, new

I Start Another Post with GRRR.

GRRRR. Sick. Not the flu, that would knock me on my ass, and I got shot for it this year. No, just congestion and sore throat and no appetite and snot, endless snot. And coughing. Sometimes productive, sometimes merely dramatic. I hear there are some people who don’t get sick at the first hint of winter and stay sick all season long. I want to meet these mutants. I want their healthy blood.


My meds do their share to weaken my immune system just enough. I am open to every disease that wanders through here. And I went outside a week ago, mingled with people, there were children. Doc has had a stomach flu kind of thing that has kept him horizontal except at key moments. We’ve been sleeping in shifts. He’s tired of me. He has too much on his mind and doesn’t want to deal with me. I get that. I would hate to be in his position. I do not envy him at all his family obligations that weigh so heavy on him this holiday season.


In reality, I need to get ready for him to leave for a week or more. I’ll need dog and cat food and cat litter. And two gallons of milk. Don’t worry about pizza money because I am too scared to call for pizza. I’ll also need tobacco and cigarette tubes. I tboomer_comichink we’ll be okay.


And will he come back? Will I be alone here? I’m afraid. Very afraid. I’m not happy about this at all. In fact, I am really quite stressed out and I can’t talk to Doc about it because he is too stressed out about his own side of it. It’s a mess.


Does someone want to come over and scratch my head? It’s driving me crazy. I have a funky scalp. It is really dry. Water saturating it can dry the skin out for days and make me itch. Washing it strips all of the oils from my hair and drives my scalp crazy with the itching. I use a moisturizing shampoo. I use a moisturizing conditioner, and contrary to the instructions, apply it to my roots and scalp. Doesn’t make a difference. For two days after I wash it, it itches uncontrollably. Another reason I don’t leave the house. People get uneasy when you scratch a lot.


This is my Boomer. I rescued her to fill the hole that Evie’s sudden death last spring left in me. I found her in the online catalog of the animal shelter and fell in love. I always wanted a tabby/calico/mushy cat. She goes with the black ones so well. And she perfectly matches the browns of Chewbacca. She is his cat. She and he rub faces and lick each other and snuggle a bit. He’s getting used to her affection and getting more comfortable returning it. He doesn’t trust other animals easily. I don’t know his background. I know Boomer’s. She was in a hoarding situation. It was actually quite near here. The woman was renting weekly apartments and filling them with cats. Right after we got Boomer, she got busted again. The only saving grace, is that she feeds them adequately, if she doesn’t get them vet treatment. So, Boomer is kind of a weird cat. Slow to warm to Doc, she now adores him. She is very clingy with me and very affectionate. I just woke her up under the couch so she would come up and lay with me. And she is.