Arlee is upstairs in the master bedroom looking out the window to the east where she can see the Christmas lights on the house of the guy on the next block over. She’s been barking her fool head off at them for an hour now. She’s done it the last three nights, and I assume she will until January or whenever dude shuts them down. (We’d stop her, but it gets too cold in that room if we close the door. The noise doesn’t bother me, but I’m the deafest one here, so.)
Addendum to my post-apocalyptic reading list: Galápagos, Kurt Vonnegut. I’m ashamed to have forgotten it. I read it in a single sitting, one of my favorite books ever. And thank you for your additions. I want to read them all, but I can’t just now. You understand.
That news about the Dakota pipeline feels good, though. When was the last time the good guys won anything? Let’s hope this bodes well for next year. There’s going to be so much to protest, it’s hard to know where to start. We should celebrate, and study this to see why it worked.
I need to stay in shape while not running, and there are machines at the gym which I am cleared to use because they don’t load my achilles much. But there’s 4″ of slush between here and there and it got dark at 3:00 and I’d have to be naked in front of other people and machines are awful and the beer fridge is here and just nope.
Maybe a concept album of songs about the end of the world is the way out of my writer’s block. Who wouldn’t want to hear that? Great music for digging mass graves.
I know people love snow and I’m trying super hard not to crap on anyone’s anything right now, so let me just say I didn’t personally need this today, and I want to be back in the desert so badly it is causing me actual, literal pain.
Thank you to those who checked in on me. I’m not OK, not even a little, but I’m not a danger to myself or others, and I’m still able to get through the functional mechanics of any given day. Hygiene, nutrition, parenting, earning. Please don’t ask for any more than that right now.