… For most values of “fine”. I’m also sick. Not so sick I’m shut down completely, but sick enough that I am exhausted by the smallest effort: getting dressed, walking across the house, filling a glass with water from the tap.

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

The fatigue I can manage. I could do without the headache, though.

… One brief, practical, errand has me up, then it’s probably back to bed, and definitely off my feet. So tired. At my Traveling Partner’s concerned urging, I took today off to rest properly. After this errand, I will. (Rest, I mean.) He’s right, I’ve been pushing myself too hard and justifying it by pointing out that I’m “not that sick”. Stupid. It’s been preventing me getting over it completely. So, I concede, having acknowledged that I am sick and do need to slow down and care for myself.  I’m grateful for the way he looks out for me.

… Keep your vaccinations up to date, People, lives are at stake, and one of them is yours.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I’ve just got to to this one thing, then home and back to bed. G’damn I’m a fucking idiot. 😆 I should have stayed home in bed.

… Move along, please, nothing to see here… 😆 I can begin again on Thursday.

I woke after many hours of deep sleep feeling – something. I’m not quite finding words for it yet.

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

I haven’t looked at the news this morning. I know what I would find: shocking violence, school shootings, political chaos, grossly unethical behavior by people who should know better, children killed by their mothers, women killed by their partner or ex, whole families killed by a parent, whole ethnicities being eradicated for vengeance or profit… It’s bad out there.  I don’t need to read the news; this shit isn’t new. Human primates can be pretty awful.

In the meantime, platforms try to tidy things up by demonitizing creators who dare to be clear and frank (by using words like “rape”, “suicide”, or “BDS”). Forcing creators to use weird substitutes like “grape” for rape, or discussing people “un-aliving” themselves instead of a serious discussion of suicide, brings a certain ridiculousness to the conversation that is distracting. (I think that’s the point.) It may not get discussed at all.

…If we can’t see it, it isn’t there? That’s how a baby’s mind operates. Don’t give up your recognition of object permanence. Don’t allow the powerful to rob you of your ability to think critically! We can do better…

I sigh to myself, waiting for the library to open. There’s no point looking at the news right now, for another reason. It is election season, and frankly I plan to vote based on my thoughts and values, not whatever slop is being forced into news feeds. When billionaire platform and media owners can shove a bunch of cash towards their preferred outcome, very little political “news” can be trusted at all.

I breathe , exhale, and relax. The best I can do for myself, my family, my community, and the world, is to be the best version of myself that I can, and to continue to grow and improve. Also – vote. Our votes really do matter. Take it seriously. Vote for ethical candidates who seem most qualified to govern wisely. Stop voting for geriatric shitheads, grifters, and rapists. We’d all be having a better time if our government was stable, and operating efficiently in the hands of people wise enough to govern. Choose wisely.

Another sigh. A few minutes of meditation. A weird mood on an ordinary Tuesday. Sounds very human. I guess I’ll begin again.

It’s Monday. 10 more Mondays left in the year. How wild is that?

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

It was an ordinary night. I slept through it, waking only once. I woke feeling rested, and also feeling as if I’d been away for quite a long time. 😂 It was a good weekend. I got home around noon and enjoyed hanging out with my beloved Traveling Partner. I missed him as fiercely as if I’d been quite far away. Funny how perspective can be quite different than reality.

Unpacking didn’t take long. I’m glad to be home. I was glad to take the weekend away to paint. I’m grateful for the opportunities. I’m grateful for my beloved’s support.

I yawn from the side of the trail. I’m not actually sleepy. I watch the stars awhile. I breathe, exhale, and relax. Daybreak is aways off yet. My nose is running. I reach for the tissues in my pocket. It’s all very ordinary. I think back to a conversation yesterday afternoon with my beloved, speculating whether or not we may have COVID or lingering head colds. Neither of us seem particularly ill, just a bit under the weather. The sinus congestion and this bit of an irritating cough do make me wonder, though. It’s going around. “What is?”, you might ask. “All of it”, I would likely reply.

Be safe, Readers, get vaccinated. (“Against what?”, you might ask. “Against everything”, I would likely reply.)

I sit watching the stars awhile longer. I think about love… And dinner? Seems premature, but it takes longer to figure it out on a glp-1. 😆 I’m barely interested in food, ever, a mild inconvenience. It does tend to make planning harder.

Chilly morning, but not really cold. I could happily go back to bed, cozy and warm, and wrapped in blankets. It is, however, Monday. It’s already time to begin again.

Oof. I slept restlessly, and woke often. I wasn’t sure why until I finally got up from the bed, around my usual wake up time, shaking all over, and feeling… “off”. It was a familiar uncomfortable sensation that woke me; I made haste to the bathroom.

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

I’m still trembling, a little. My nausea has been (hopefully) handled – Pepto Bismol for the win on that one. After a dreadful experience at McCarran International Airport (now Harry Reid Int’l Airport), I always have some tucked in my bag where I can get at it. One more reminder of human frailty, and even of our mortality; being ill in a hotel first thing in the morning (or during the night, which I guess this is, as it is still quite dark outside). I fight the vertigo the way I fight the nausea and the diarrhea; I don’t “fight it”. There is literally no point in trying to “fight” such things. Recognize them, acknowledge them, and deal with them as they happen. What other way is there? Oh sure, OTC remedies, that just makes sense, but it’s not the sort of thing to wish away, argue with, or defy.

I sign to myself, resigned to the annoying limitations of this “meat suit”. In spite of the trembling and the cold sweat, which suggest I’m not yet done with this (where the hell did it come from??), I make coffee. It’s not great coffee, this morning I don’t even care at all. I’m just getting through this.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. Coffee? Really? Maybe go back to bed…? It’s not yet even day break, and I don’t think I’ve even slept more than an hour at a time. Why? No idea, and I’m not going to get spun up over that. It is more likely than not that my restless night was due to precisely what woke me – feeling ill. It just took awhile. I sip my coffee, grateful for the cheap-ass little single serve drip coffee machine. This one is quite clean and works well. The coffee is as good as the quality of the original beans, and having been ground sometime in the 70s (maybe not, but they are stale). It’ll do. I may yet lay down again, and maybe sleep. I decide to try my luck a bit, and cross the room to take my morning medication. I daringly leave behind the small trash can I’ve been carrying “just in case” since I woke. The room feels much larger this morning than it did yesterday. lol

Another breath, another moment. So far so good. I mean, for most values of “good” and all values of “so far”. It could be a lot worse. I look out the patio door. How is it still so very dark? I look at the time on my phone more carefully. Oh. It’s two hours earlier than I thought it was, and definitely still “night”. I laugh quietly to myself, and just go with it.

It’s been a worthwhile bit of time away to reflect and to paint. I sit quietly for a few minutes, not doing much, mind mostly empty. I’m looking forward to being home. I’m looking forward to beginning again, only… not just yet. I decide to lay down awhile. Maybe I’ll sleep? I open the curtains and the patio door (enough to let some fresh air in). I’ll wake when I wake, and then I’ll begin again.

Interesting day. Art that I’m happy with and some good photos.

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

I spent most of the day quietly contemplating some things my beloved has said recently, and some useful perspective offered by my therapist – and my own past writing. Sometimes having memory issues is almost comical, it’s often seriously frustrating, but in this instance it’s actually sort of useful. I can go back and look at my own experience of life, and take my own advice. 😆 I chuckle to myself, although I’m quite serious.

Good day of painting. Strange day of random human stuff. A drunken man raising hell by a nearby restaurant. He punched a woman in the face just a few steps from the hotel. The police were called. Nothing much came of it and the man along with the woman he’d struck retreated to their hotel room. There’s a strange woman on the second floor with a small pack of agitated tiny dogs on perpetually tangled leashes. They yap a lot. In the early morning, when I stepped out for a good quality coffee, the elevator was filled with fishermen and a very strange uncomfortable vibe. I ignored all of it, and kept to myself. I painted, and when I wasn’t painting, I was thinking about painting, and moving colors around in my paint boxes thoughtfully.

Later a bite to eat. Cold fried chicken. It was fine. I crashed pretty early, napped, and woke in time to watch the moon set. Nice interlude.

I catch myself yawning. Tomorrow I’ll head home. I miss my Traveling Partner, and I miss my studio! My beloved is right though; it isn’t so easy to do this kind of thing in the winter. I take a deep breath of the sea air. The last bonfire on the beach has gone out. The scent of wood smoke is dissipating.

I sit star gazing awhile after the moon sets. I think I’m seeing Antares, maybe? I sigh quietly and yawn. Beginning again can wait for the morning. I get a drink of cold water and head back to bed.