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Sep. 25th, 2018 09:53 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kittydesadeThe easiest and quickest way to get me to buy something is definitely to link it to Labyrinth. Exhibit A: Notoriously Morbid's Color of the Month Dance Magic Dance that I just picked up.
I should feel bad about that, I've meant to start paying down all the various crap post-DragonCon, but I am stressed and tired and the Aunt has been talking non-stop about how she expects to have to put her (admittedly very old) cat down and how she hopes she'll just go peacefully in her sleep and meanwhile I have a cat who's in a state of Schroedinger's tumors, where we're giving him what we hope is a good treatment to keep the tumors from re-growing, mast cell cancer isn't common in cats, we did the surgery, the prognosis is 12-18 months and it's already been six, and I am not yet ready to let Mikey go can we not talk about cat death right now. This plus the various political stresses plus my tailbone still hurts from falling down the stairs means I do not in fact feel bad about buying a shiny comfort eyeshadow, and am thinking about buying more. Or buying more kawaii office supplies. Or something.
Between that and a morbid if heartwarming story Gail Simone told on Twitter my head's been in that bizarre space of not immediately sad or hurting or depressed or any of that, but I can feel it lurking there on the horizon slowly and gently dragging on my energy levels. Depression had better stay fucked off even though it's getting towards that time of the three-month when I'm susceptible. Sad, okay, the cat was worrying but it turns out she just had bad fleas and Mikey, as far as I know, is still as healthy as he's going to get. Hurting... not really? Not right now. But despite all this, there is a drag.
Or at least there was until I got exercised about the usefulness of homework in teaching discipline on Twitter and then I exploded and now I am full of energy. The problem is apparently I am full of the energy of Sam Seaborn when I should be full of the energy of Toby Ziegler.
I should feel bad about that, I've meant to start paying down all the various crap post-DragonCon, but I am stressed and tired and the Aunt has been talking non-stop about how she expects to have to put her (admittedly very old) cat down and how she hopes she'll just go peacefully in her sleep and meanwhile I have a cat who's in a state of Schroedinger's tumors, where we're giving him what we hope is a good treatment to keep the tumors from re-growing, mast cell cancer isn't common in cats, we did the surgery, the prognosis is 12-18 months and it's already been six, and I am not yet ready to let Mikey go can we not talk about cat death right now. This plus the various political stresses plus my tailbone still hurts from falling down the stairs means I do not in fact feel bad about buying a shiny comfort eyeshadow, and am thinking about buying more. Or buying more kawaii office supplies. Or something.
Between that and a morbid if heartwarming story Gail Simone told on Twitter my head's been in that bizarre space of not immediately sad or hurting or depressed or any of that, but I can feel it lurking there on the horizon slowly and gently dragging on my energy levels. Depression had better stay fucked off even though it's getting towards that time of the three-month when I'm susceptible. Sad, okay, the cat was worrying but it turns out she just had bad fleas and Mikey, as far as I know, is still as healthy as he's going to get. Hurting... not really? Not right now. But despite all this, there is a drag.
Or at least there was until I got exercised about the usefulness of homework in teaching discipline on Twitter and then I exploded and now I am full of energy. The problem is apparently I am full of the energy of Sam Seaborn when I should be full of the energy of Toby Ziegler.