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low ebb
July 23, 2017

Still no prospect of employment for Spouse, and it is really getting me down. Mainly because he doesn't seem to really care all that much. I don't know if it is denial, or depression, or what, but he needs to get his ass in gear or it is going to kill me.

Short post today, because it is just a summary:
Last week was horrible, and I spent it in one long panic attack, more or less. (See previous post)

The weekend was very quiet-- because we have no disposable income right now and because neither of us seems to be in the mood to do anything much.

I caught up a little on my sleep--no naps, but at least six hours every night, thank goodness. I tried Spouse's Lunesta a couple of nights, but didn't find it to be useful at all for the sleep maintenance issues. It knocked me out, but once my bladder got me up my anxiety brain was still able to get ramped up before I could get back to sleep. Nasty side effects, too...bad taste in my mouth and throat, and a definite hangover.

We made the rounds of our usual shopping haunts. Costco, Kwik-Trip, Meijer, Fresh Thyme--and a stop at the nice new Aldi on the north side. Spouse hadn't been in there, he was pretty impressed.

I managed to force myself into some pool time on Sunday--mainly because it needed a vacuuming. Once I got that done, I did a water workout before I got out. I was going to go back in later in the day, but the weather got very threatening, so we put the cover on. Of course, the storms then took an abrupt turn southwards, so we didn't get the bad weather after all, but by the time the weather had cleared I was out of the notion.

Housework, of course. He seems to be slacking in that department now. I had to give the kitchen a thorough cleaning and do most of the laundry.

Which, frankly, pissed me off. There is no excuse for me having to do all that if he is home evry day. The shower and tub enclosure need a good scrubbing as well, but I let him know HE needs to get that done. And--for the millionth time--he needs to SEE this stuff and DO this stuff without me grabbing him by the hand and leading him to it, like he's a little child.

Sigh. If I'd wanted kids, I would have fucking HAD kids.





Reading: “Life at High Tide--Harper's Novelettes” (early 20th Century, exact pub. date unknown), Edited By William Dean Howells and Henry Mills Alden. I didn't like this much. It may have been my mood, it may have been the tone of the collection, but it was really depressing. I ended up ducking into "Daddy Long-Legs", and leafing through the Good Housekeeping Magazines for the first 6 months of 1913, just for the calmative effect.

Listening: Dawes, The Church, The Black Keys, Cage the Elephant

Inked Up:Still no changes. I haven't been feeling well enough to do anything with my pens. Not even use them.

recede - proceed

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