Spine/pain: As usual. Appointment to see Dr Walker mid-November.
Depression: Slow progress. Still, it's progress.
This damn bug: still coughy and sneezy, worn-out, apathetic. Bleh.
Work: still waiting on news from prospective publisher.
SinA project: Choir 1 done, working on Choir 2.
Sociablility/communicativeness: Low to nonexistent.
Writing: too low on energy.
General summary: Bleh. I hates it, I do, my preciouses.
Well, I no longer have fuzzy sticky balls. The mouse sparkleth. Don't tell Jus, but I've discovered the perfect mousedegunking tool: the electric toothbrush. Yes, I did thoroughly clean the head after use, thank you.
My keyboard legend is wearing thin, and in a rather strange fashion. I use it most often for writing english prose, so I would have expected the wear pattern to follow the frequency distribution for characters in continuous English text: you know, e t a o i n s h r d l u, etc, with pretty grim wear on the rubout key too. However: my o key is completely blank, with i and n tying for second place. That's fair enough, third through sixth place in the distribution - however, my e t a and s keys are remarkably legible, though h is wearing a little, and the k and l keys are fairly badly worn. I admit that I'm a wretched typist - four fingers at most, usually, and I do need to look at the kbd even though I've been using them for umpty-um years. I've always said that if I wanted to do touch typing I'd have got a job as a secretart.
Looking at the kbd, therefore, I note that the letters suffering the greatest wear are those generally hit with my right hand, and the first couple of fingers of that to boot: the erase key generally gets done with my third finger, and that's showing no sign of wear despite my lousy typing. Is it possible that I have differentially corrosive/abrasive digits? at least one enquiring mind wishes to know...
Hm, I must be feeling somewhat better, because I've actually been hungry enough to eat.
Home-made lentil dhal with rice. Made the spice mix with some of my home-grown chilies this time. Very nice. Perfect warm comfort food: lots of cinnamon, coriander, cloves and chili. Large bowl.
Muffins. Proper English muffins, adrip with butter, not those American cupcake thingies. Adrip with butter AND home-made elderberry and raspberry jam. Two of them.
A hunk of decent Cheddar. Cheese has to be the food of the gods. Sod eight records and a good book (Shakespeare and the Bible already being there: I can't wait for some Muslim guest on DID to point out how discriminatory that is), I shouldn't last a week on a desert island without cheese. Maybe I'd be allowed cheese as my luxury?
I want to bake bread, but my Gottverdammt back won't let me stand for more than a few minutes, so that's out.
And, to polish it off, a glass of decent sherry, since I'm out of port. Damn damn damn poverty, when a man can't even take a glass of port by his own fire. But very nice sherry, mind you. And only a small one. Booze and opiates really don't mix well.
If I manage to keep this up, I may avert the slide into becoming scrawny!Kay, which is happening with accelerating rapidity. I do not like being able to count my ribs; I'm not built skinny, and it brings back bad memories. Damn, I wish I was a comfort eater, rather than the reverse - then again, that has its own downside.
And, what is it with the BBC? do they no longer fact-check? All the time I'm hearing "Fentanyl, a potent anaesthetic derived from opium". Bah. It's N-phenyl-N-[1-(2-phenylethyl)-4-piperidinyl] propanamide, and completely structurally unrelated to the opium alkaloids.
Happy Samhain, all of you who celebrate it.