Jan. 5th, 2017

kittydesade: Stippled light shining through curtains onto a couch or bed bracketed by white pillows. (hideaway)
Okay. I am taking a breath and admitting that the next four years may bring more comfort eating than I'd like, and so it's time to get back to food logging again. Also finding things to make me happy or at least calmer that aren't making mug brownies. Though sketching might help with that. Coloring. I need to get into the habit of just doodling, progressive doodling and not the doodling equivalent of hypergraphia where i write the same five song lyrics over and over and over again. Maybe I can make doodles out of kanji and learn them at the same time. That'd probably be better for me than stress eating.

Thinking of doodling, here's a coping mechanism for you that I just thought of. Well, it started up as me thinking of how god I'm going to get so tired of all these reminders and habits and this support structure I'm building up to survive the next four years, and somewhere in there the word exoskeleton came into play. Which is actually a rather cool thing to have. So now I'm thinking of all these little reminders and notations and keeping track of my food structure and so on as an exoskeleton, an exo-suit, dare I even say it a Jaeger (*waves to the braintwin*) to keep us protected and give us the ammo we need to fight the goddamn KaiGOPu. Oh that doesn't portmanteau well at all, forget I said it. GOP can be the name of the category 5 Kaiju.

Doing... I don't know if better is the right word. More snappy and irritable than ideating today, energy levels are up. Mood is, honestly, also up despite everything, which might have something to do with capoeira last night or just getting enough sleep. The night before I think, even with melatonin, had more to do with having too many layers and being too hot and sweaty. Last night i woke up, swapped my long-sleeve for a tank top, and burrowed back under the covers and I was fine.

The roof leak problem in the car turned out to be the clogged channels, again. Which makes it the third time in as many months the boy's shelled out a couple hundred dollars, the equivalent of a car payment, for them to do exactly dick. He's muttering about getting a new-used car and trading this one in, I'm trying to get him to hold off a couple years till we can get at least my credit card under control. To be fair, he's also cleaning out the garage so he can park the car in there for rainy days, and that'll help some. Also help it not get clogged up with tree debris, which might... but I don't know. I don't think the dealership folks are doing their damn jobs, either.

(No, they're definitely not doing their jobs, because he just got the car home from the dealership, used the hose to spray water over the top, and it's still leaking after they fixed it $300 worth. So fuck them.)

No, the doing better was totally a lie because with that last bit of news and the voting to continue defunding the ACA, I'm back down to everything is horrible eat cake till I die mood again. Let's see if I can get through stuff regardless. Also, I have sketchbooks and pencils and many stories to write and organize and edit and sort. Let's do this thing.

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