FUD!

Yesterday was a hard, hard day. I just couldn’t manage to do anything beyond watching cat vids, reading and moping. Yes, exercise is my antidepressant but I was so down that I couldn’t get out of my chair and onto the damn elliptical.

I’d gone for my morning walk but that wasn’t enough to rescue me from the solid steel embrace of Doctor Doom. Today it is molto wicked obvs that I need to unleash my inner Mothra.

Why?

To save mankind? Yeah, yeah, sure, sure but FIRST I need me some Shobijin to ‘terp for me, pre and post-op, at MGH. Then, after I get home, they ‘ll need to make sure I don’t fall down the stairs.

OK, above all else, they gotta do kitchen duty. Those California sushi rolls don’t roll themselves, ya know.

Now that I’m not going out (not until after I recover from August’s spine surgery), I’m having to cook for myself. Well, that’s actually a lie. I don’t cook (as you may recall) and I barely microwave. Shit….if it involves anything more than slicing a bagel in half or opening a yogurt container, odds are, it’s not happening.

I’d order in but, remember, deaf here – I can’t call and I’m not leaving the house to place orders in person from, possibly, plague riddled individuals. Yes, I DO actually have plenty of food IN the house – it’s just that putting together a meal (even just sticking something in the microwave) is lightyears beyond my interest and talent levels.

Know where my astro-high levels of food prep disinterest sent me yesterday? Broke Down Sad City is where I was. Jen came home from work, asked how I was and I just started crying. Her first question was “did you eat anything today?”

Wut? Emmmmmm…

She promptly made me a little rollup, reminded me that NOT eating is NOT healthy and, yada, yada, yada. Yes Mom.

I only mention it BUT….I’m 61 years old AND a vegetarian (heading toward Veganville even). It stands to reason that I would be better about this sustenance crap. Ya know?

Maybe I usually am BUT we’re living in insane times. I’ve got NO bloody design/layout work coming in. Work, in combo with exercise and painting, always snatches me back from the depths of gloom riddled reality. Without, it’s way too goddamn easy to lose focus, forget to eat and lose all energy and motivation.

Which brings me back to yesterday where I sat in my comfy chair watching endless cat vids and reading superhero comics. I’ll be better today. Jen put a sandwich in the fridge and instructa-scolded me to EAT LUNCH… yes Mom.

I’ll elliptical, paint, draw, pay bills and do my motherfucking PT exercises. I'll get shit done.

Dammit.