Sep. 21st, 2017

entelein: (starbuck)
 It looks like a decadent truffle made just for unicorns. A soft, oily technicolor pink lump, textured as if it had been dipped in a slightly waxier version of itself and smoothed over, drizzled in fine silver glitter.

I dropped it into the bath, and it bobbed up immediately, spreading a thin layer of pink oil dots across the surface of the water. 

It was a hot day. I'm not sure what I was really thinking, making a bath like that, but I'd been hurting so badly - just an all-over pain that didn't seem to have any source. I wasn't particularly stressed and holding myself tight, I hadn't moved any boxes or done any major unpacking, I hadn't slept funny. I'd been sleeping enough, in fact.

I just ... hurt. All over. I walked slowly and marveled at just how uniformly my whole body felt soaked in pain. No twinges. No creaks. Just a sort of frostbitten inability to move easily through the world. 

It was 90 degrees today and sickly humid, and I nearly gave myself a headache hanging out downstairs in this new place, trying to hear my TV over the rattle and roar of a window air conditioning unit way past its prime, but I needed to eat dinner. I needed to watch the first episode of the new season of The Good Place. I needed to not be thinking too much. I needed to hydrate. 

So, the bath. It was a decent bath, all told. I felt heavy as I got up out of the water after soaking for a good half hour or so, the weightlessness of the water swirling off my skin in pepto pink, my skin softened and scented like a screeching Strawberry Shortcake doll. I don't know that I feel any better physically, but it did feel good to move through my evening, step by step. Ice cubes into a tall plastic tumbler. Cold water out of the fridge. The paper sack from Lush, still emitting bright puffs of citrus and that strawberry and also that generic Lush scent that is just all the scents together, having a swordfight in rainbow color. Trudging up the steps slowly, no twinges, no creaks, just pain.

The new abode is slow to come together. Work has been busy, and I get home and there's just no time to eat dinner and decompress before it's really time to get to bed again. The important things are set up: my linen closet, my bed, my television, my computer. I have a dual monitor setup now, for the computer desk. That's a trigger it took me about six years to pull. So ridiculous. And my PC is so slow now that it seems almost wasted, but it is pretty nice to have a game up on one screen and be able to chat or answer an email in the other. I am so used to a multi display at work that it feels like obvious luxury at home.

I want to start writing regularly again, even if it's quotidian crap. I fell down a rabbithole yesterday, reading through some old stuff I wrote about the trip I took to Scotland in 2005, and it was so enjoyable to take that trip back, even with all the crap that was behind the scenes (and unwritten). Even when my heart breaks and I am feeling my worst, I still manage to experience life and participate as sincerely as I can. I honestly think people don't get that about me very well. How could I possibly be feeling in need of support and friendship when I'm nursing a hangover and crushing two dudes in a Halo match in a small flat in Aberdeen, right?

The new apartment is good, though. Very good. It's old, and it could certainly use some updating, but it's got charm, and it's got loads of quiet, and I am on my own. I control the horizontal and the vertical. I am settling in slow, sinkful by sinkful of dishes, half a box here, an extension cord run along the wall there. It is such a slow pace that I may see the New Year before it's truly settled in, but campus recruiting is happening now at work, and so the job comes first. All else is camping out until I can get to Home Depot and replace the crappy venetian blinds the last tenant broke. There is no yelling, no door slamming, no moldy dishes and passive-aggressive appliance use. I brew coffee on the weekends, sleep like the almost dead who also sometimes needs to rise and pee at 3AM, and the whole place smells clean and homey. 

My sleep app tells me my sleep quality percentage is much higher now than it was a mere two months ago. Maybe it's the relative lack of stress that is causing all this pain?


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September 2017

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