Anchorage is not built for wind. My favorite picture that popped up on the Anchorage subreddit was of a canoe wrapped around some sort of sign or pole. I don't mind it, but then to be fair we haven't suffered as much damage as most people. And/or my dad has made it his business to batten things down with adequately attached tarps at the start of the season (winter).
In any case school is cancelled for today. L is watching Nastya (ew) and eating Bluey-themed cereal for breakfast. The overnight hotel/pool party was a success as far as my anxiety-marinated heart can tell. The hardest part was FaceTiming her in the morning only to tell her, again, that no she couldn't fucking go in the pool with no lifeguard I'm not putting that on the mom supervising the whole concern and listen, this is what you fucking agreed to last night when you had a meltdown about the possibility of leaving because of this very potential issue next morning. I know, I know. She can't really project herself into the future and figure out "Hm. I might be sadder in the morning if I can't do this thing I really want to do!" And there's no way in hell she'd be able to comprehend that I just don't want her to fucking die, alright? Why do you have to be such a downer all the time, mom? Cue the Conspiracy Theory Charlie meme. That's why, kid.
S came home for the weekend and left again this morning even though the pass to Seward is probably impassable no matter what the highway reports say. I guess we'll find out tonight? Things are...weird and indefinite. I haven't been able to initiate conversations and he hasn't so I guess we'll reconvene next weekend and see What's Up. This means I didn't actually accomplish my homework for therapy this week, but grief is a nonlinear process no matter what [checks notes] Kubler-Ross says.
School is back in session for me, so I have my Legend Planner out and am starting to plug in due dates. Fewer group assignments this semester - thank the Christ child - but that one professor hasn't gotten back to me on WHEN ARE WE FUCKING GOING TO MY OLD WORK I NEED TO REQUEST TIME OFF AND OH MY GOD so hopefully it's nothing too wacky or I will have to quite The Siren early and I'll be honest - that's most of my socialization these days.
Otherwise, I realized last night that I'm probably feeling flat and sad in part because I realize it's hard for me to connect to my...self? If that makes sense? I'm having to reorganize my relationship to shit I've held as my identity for a long time and gently pressure myself into this sorting process that's a bit tedious. And then often I'm a bit sad because, why doesn't x make me feel...anything much anymore (looking at you, burlesque costumes)? Why can't I articulate to my Russian Orthodox SIL what my hobbies are? Not just because some of them are NSFW but because I do I actually derive joy from any of them anymore?
Anyway, that's probably the deal with 38 and grad school burnout and being a parent. But if and when I ask my eventual PCP questions it's going to go: perimenopause where are we at on that? Skin tags - don't love them. Should I be concerned about diabetes? Dopamine reuptake inhibitors perhaps? And then probably the usual other cancerous stuff that we all gotta go through. Why are you writing this down? Because otherwise I will forget, fam. The search function is a beautiful thing.
Also, I got to get told by an optometrist in sriracha socks that I have pigment dispersion syndrome so watch out for rising eye pressure! Guess what's pretty good for that? Caffeine. Guess that's not going anywhere anytime soon!
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