12,683 Days Alive
Today was one of those days where I had to sneak off to the bathroom to cry.
I’ve had a headache since yesterday. No other symptoms of anything, honest. Just a plain old headache. Not even a migraine! But it made concentrating at work a damn challenge because everything was too bright. Hold music too loud. I dunno. I upped my water intake and sated the craving for hummus and pretzels with a snack pack I picked up from Publix when I went with Miss A on our lunch break.
I spent the evening crocheting. Working on DW’s blanket and having cat company while I practiced social distancing.
I have therapy with Vickie tomorrow. I have thus far resisted the urge to Google the living hell out of her. I already know she isn’t a Trump supporter. I had trouble with the homework she gave me. Getting angry, then seeing who I see when I’m angry.
I’ve had trouble with emotions for forever. Anger seems to be the one I have the hardest time expressing. Probably because of the tumultuous and more than slightly abusive childhood I still carry. So many things have happened that I internalized. So many things have been done to me that ought not to be done to anyone.
I can’t think about that right now. I’m already struggling. I don’t need to make it worse. Maybe I’ll get out of bed in time to gussy up a bit tomorrow.
It seems stupid to do it when there’s only one other person in the office with me, but maybe. Depends on how much actual sleep I get.
Speaking of, I’m going to bed now.
Take your meds, folks.
Postmark Wonder-Land 