I started the day lost in my head. It’s fine. Strange dreams. Woke feeling like maybe I’m getting a cold? Maybe not. I get the morning started, get the commute going. I end up at work much sooner than I expected, though I subjectively feel as though I “left at the usual time”? I was definitely not speeding… but the rainy weather dominated my attention, and I barely noticed how few red lights stopped me this morning. Consistent often beats “fast”. I shrug it off, set up my laptop, and make coffee. Still lost in my own head, my coffee goes cold before I ever taste it. Wild. What a weird morning.

I finally open a new window to start a bit of writing before work… I stare out the window watching the darkness slowly transition to daybreak without typing a word. Lost in thought, but without recollection. A bit like meaning to record something, but forgetting to hit “record”. Strange morning. Strange thoughts. I teeter on the edge of fatigue and alertness.

…Somehow I’ve got to start this day…

I quaff some of this cold coffee. Same coffee beans, same machine, same process of making coffee as with yesterday… this cup is not bad at all, in spite of having gone entirely cold before I got around to drinking it. It’s fine.

I sit awhile longer. Just… sitting with my random thoughts. Nothing of consequence. I’m not “happy”, “sad”, or even “indifferent”. I am, more than anything else, at least at this moment, an “empty vessel”. Like a pitcher with an unnoticed hole in the bottom, I pour my thoughts into my attention but they don’t accumulate into anything useful, they just leak right on out. lol

I take a deep breath. Pull myself upright. I’m completely out of two necessary prescriptions; the Rx’s expired without my noticing, between refills. Fucking hell. I’ll have to 1. phone them in and 2. go directly into the actual VA pharmacy and get the attention of an actual human being and make a case for filling them in person and giving them directly to me. Their system is not set up for veterans with any sort of cognitive, behavioral, or mental health issues at all. It’s almost as if they don’t actually care. I sigh out loud. I just don’t even want to think about it, deal with it, or… you know… do the thing. Fuck. I would very much like to just have the option of putting all my Rx’s onto some sort of automated process, as I have been able to do with recurring bills, you know? Easier. Better for me. Better results. Consistency.

I finally think to start a music playlist. The first track startles me out of my peculiar reverie and I feel myself begin to “come unstuck” (in a good way). Words begin to hit the page, and I end up… here. And it’s already time to begin again.