Bonus Episode

 I feel like journaling, but I don't know what about.

Things are...okayish. Two more weeks in the semester (or something like that), and it feels like every step is sucking me down into the middle of the earth. But:

- I've worked out three days in a row now

- I got the placement I wanted for the Summer! Yay!

- My brain and body are intent on getting me dopamine in roundabout ways, and for that I'm grateful.

- I'm relatively on top of the laundry and housecleaning for now

- I'm relatively healthy for now

- I'm chipping away at making appointments for health reasons

- I'm drinking more water and much much less alcohol

But:

- I let L stay home from school today after driving her all the way to school, and now she wants to go to swimming because she "feels better"; I don't think there was a way to win that parenting moment, though. She has to go to school tomorrow. No two ways about it.

- I don't know what I'm working next week and so I can't schedule the third of three tests I have going on.

- I completely forgot to get the Elf on the Shelf out of storage on December 1st and so now there is this rigamarole around "writing a letter to Santa" to tell him to let Snowflake come back and be our elf.

- I totally forgot about advent calendars

- I'm not on top of Christmas presents whatsoever and who the fuck knows how this all is going to shake out.

- S has been on strike as far as signing Christmas cards goes and I don't know I might just say "fuck it" and say they're just from L and me 🤷

Thanksgiving turned into annual Deep Clean the Fridge Day while I caught up on business lectures and learned all about how Florida is a cesspool for Medicare fraud (!!). 

S said he saw all the work I was putting in and that it was appreciated and I just.... Ugh. That's something that's supposed to feel good, right? It doesn't. I know I do a lot of work. And I know that sometimes I...don't. 

*sigh* Maybe I'm just too far up the spiral staircase that leads from Trying to Not Giving a Fuck.

Well, that's not entirely true. But O - to be Jessica Fletcher in Murder, She Wrote. I've started rewatching it in bits and pieces and it still hits. Well - mostly, haha.

Okay. When shall we three meet again? Who the fuck knows - not me!