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dragonlady7via http://ift.tt/2gkiDg9:
my drafts folder is a fucking nightmare. oh my god. it’s like 1500 posts at this point. i don’t know what’s in there. I keep saving things there to look at later but then I have no idea what I put there or why.
my house is like that. my laundry. It’s mostly clean laundry, but fuck. Eleven miscellaneous single socks, a pair of stockings that don’t fit me, a t-shirt I meant to cut down into something else. Piles in the bedroom, piles in the guest room, some on the sunporch it’s abruptly too cold to use, some in the attic probably, some in the basement. I have no idea what fits me, what’s even mine. It’s all clean, it’s all perfect, I can’t find any of it.
My life is like that. What was I working on? I don’t know. Piles of things everywhere. I don’t know what any of it is and don’t remember what I intended to do with any of it. I can’t get rid of any of it because i kept it all for reasons. I don’t remember the reasons. I’m not making that up, though, there are actual reasons, and when I remember them, I do actually complete projects. It’s impossible to complete projects, though, because I have too much stuff in the way and I can’t find the things I was actually trying to work on.
People helpfully tell me to throw everything away and start over, which is just so helpful, because I can afford to do that, because I could just buy all new craft stuff, because I have a body that just fits in any clothes and I can just get new ones. (No. None of those are true. I can’t.)
(I bought shelves for my basement and organized an enormous amount of stuff down onto them, and then instantly the living room was full of crap again and I don’t know how.)
This is not really critical at the moment, it is just symptomatic of the fact that surely if I had ADHD I’d already know about it, right Doc?
I opened this window to make a different post but this is what happened. I went to bed at 8pm last night and intermittently lay awake for hours worrying about what’s going to happen to this country. The President-elect is actually incapable of understanding what a conflict of interest is. He actually does not understand. Who has the guts to sue him? That’s the part of the legal system I don’t understand. Someone has to do it. Why isn’t there any opposition leader? I understand not wanting to make yourself a target but right now it’s not dangerous yet, he hasn’t consolidated power yet, surely someone can stand up and do something, besides some podunk-wacko snippy Erie Co legislator.
(I have a whole side post brewing on New York State politics, but I won’t get into it here. It’ll come, don’t worry.)
Also my whole hand is still bruised from the fact that turkeys, unlike chickens, have hard unyielding pelvises, tough skin, and decidedly non-stretchy abdominal muscles, so when you try to pull your hand out with the gizzard in it, your hand gets bruised instead of their skin yielding, and you have to try to work the gizzard out kind of sideways. It doesn’t help that this year’s turkeys were given as much grit as they wanted, so their gizzards were full of rocks, so there was no squish. (The turkeys, apparently, loved the grit and ate it preferentially to the wheat they were also given. Their favorite was, of course, the corn-based feed, but they’d eat rocks before they ate wheat. I don’t know why. Turkeys are not bright. But they grew faster and were healthier than last year’s turkeys, who weren’t given grit, so, I guess hard gizzards is a small price to pay. All of us eviscerators had bad hand bruises though.)
I guess this is one of those miscellaneous state-of-the-me posts, but I really had a point to make instead and I don’t remember what it was. All that sleep last night and I still don’t know what’s happening. I hadn’t been home during daylight hours since Veteran’s Day, before this morning, though, so, I guess I can be excused a little extra scatterbrained-ness.
my drafts folder is a fucking nightmare. oh my god. it’s like 1500 posts at this point. i don’t know what’s in there. I keep saving things there to look at later but then I have no idea what I put there or why.
my house is like that. my laundry. It’s mostly clean laundry, but fuck. Eleven miscellaneous single socks, a pair of stockings that don’t fit me, a t-shirt I meant to cut down into something else. Piles in the bedroom, piles in the guest room, some on the sunporch it’s abruptly too cold to use, some in the attic probably, some in the basement. I have no idea what fits me, what’s even mine. It’s all clean, it’s all perfect, I can’t find any of it.
My life is like that. What was I working on? I don’t know. Piles of things everywhere. I don’t know what any of it is and don’t remember what I intended to do with any of it. I can’t get rid of any of it because i kept it all for reasons. I don’t remember the reasons. I’m not making that up, though, there are actual reasons, and when I remember them, I do actually complete projects. It’s impossible to complete projects, though, because I have too much stuff in the way and I can’t find the things I was actually trying to work on.
People helpfully tell me to throw everything away and start over, which is just so helpful, because I can afford to do that, because I could just buy all new craft stuff, because I have a body that just fits in any clothes and I can just get new ones. (No. None of those are true. I can’t.)
(I bought shelves for my basement and organized an enormous amount of stuff down onto them, and then instantly the living room was full of crap again and I don’t know how.)
This is not really critical at the moment, it is just symptomatic of the fact that surely if I had ADHD I’d already know about it, right Doc?
I opened this window to make a different post but this is what happened. I went to bed at 8pm last night and intermittently lay awake for hours worrying about what’s going to happen to this country. The President-elect is actually incapable of understanding what a conflict of interest is. He actually does not understand. Who has the guts to sue him? That’s the part of the legal system I don’t understand. Someone has to do it. Why isn’t there any opposition leader? I understand not wanting to make yourself a target but right now it’s not dangerous yet, he hasn’t consolidated power yet, surely someone can stand up and do something, besides some podunk-wacko snippy Erie Co legislator.
(I have a whole side post brewing on New York State politics, but I won’t get into it here. It’ll come, don’t worry.)
Also my whole hand is still bruised from the fact that turkeys, unlike chickens, have hard unyielding pelvises, tough skin, and decidedly non-stretchy abdominal muscles, so when you try to pull your hand out with the gizzard in it, your hand gets bruised instead of their skin yielding, and you have to try to work the gizzard out kind of sideways. It doesn’t help that this year’s turkeys were given as much grit as they wanted, so their gizzards were full of rocks, so there was no squish. (The turkeys, apparently, loved the grit and ate it preferentially to the wheat they were also given. Their favorite was, of course, the corn-based feed, but they’d eat rocks before they ate wheat. I don’t know why. Turkeys are not bright. But they grew faster and were healthier than last year’s turkeys, who weren’t given grit, so, I guess hard gizzards is a small price to pay. All of us eviscerators had bad hand bruises though.)
I guess this is one of those miscellaneous state-of-the-me posts, but I really had a point to make instead and I don’t remember what it was. All that sleep last night and I still don’t know what’s happening. I hadn’t been home during daylight hours since Veteran’s Day, before this morning, though, so, I guess I can be excused a little extra scatterbrained-ness.
