I’m crying trying to get another cup of (1/3 strength) coffee and make myself eat something. So here’s how I’m really doing, people who keep fucking telling me I’m strong. I’m thrashing in some sort of deadlock between priorities. I want to measure something to order a piece of clothing so it’s not worth getting dressed, but I think I should get dressed before I go back downstairs, but I need more coffee to cope, but I don’t want to drink too much more coffee because I suspect I am getting caffeine withdrawal headaches after starting to allow myself full strength coffee one too many times.
It’s 11:20 am and I’ve managed to send off one thing for work and then couldn’t concentrate so I got back up to do all the things I am supposed to, like fold my laundry backlog and disposition bags that are occupying my table so when friends bring me dinner tonight there will be somewhere to sit. Even if (there’s no if) even though it’s a folding table with the uncomfortable dining room chairs we always meant to replace, in a room strewn with funereal garbage, and luggage from a trip weeks ago unpacked save for making sure there are no rotting bananas in them. I’m still in pajamas and my hair is sticking up. I don’t remember for sure if I used my inhaler or brushed my teeth yet so I do it again (or at all, I don’t know).
It’s a bright sunny day which was welcome for like 3 seconds and then my headache reminded me about light sensitivity. Fighting residual migraine from yesterday and am just glad the prescription meds and 5 hours of sleep did something to reduce it.
I agonize over the fact that I want to buy my kid some sort of kitchen or workbench for his increasing desire to play pretend, but I am frozen on researching them because it was something we were supposed to pick out together.
Make a list of five other priorities that are more important than laundry. Start none of them
Look at facebook. Get bitter and angrily close the tab when I see people still being happy about their recent wedding. why do I look at Facebook. It gave me a “10 years ago today” thing too, which I was preparing to be upset about as the words hit my brain, but. When I had my first smartphone I started documenting all kinds of things so it’s just the pedestrian trail in Baltimore on a route that I used to walk a lot of the time to and from the train. No people, no memory that’s supposed to be a happy one of an event. Dodged.
Twenty minutes has gone by. I drink the coffee from a mug that a cousin gave me and which used to sit on his mini fridge almost 13 years ago, one of the first pieces of evidence of my occupation of his room. I look at the second hand on my watch even though I know it induces panic. 61% charged so I plan to put it on the charger for a bit when I go back upstairs. I have to charge my watch more often ever since I added a face that holds live photos of him; even though that’s not the face I display most often, it still seems to kill the battery. It’s the modern equivalent of photos in your wallet.
I freak out about thirty minutes having gone by and try to remember when my next work meeting is without actually going upstairs to check
I kill an ant in my kitchen and wonder what they think they’re going to find now that I scrubbed everything
I pace a bit. I make a new post it note of things I could do in order. I’ll do something for an hour and then go back to work and get my hours for the day to total 20 for the week which is supposed to be 30 soon for health insurance and I’m worried about having the ability to concentrate for that long
I pull out his phone which I haven’t managed to cancel service on because I have to talk to a human and I might need it active for 2 factor auth for something I haven’t dealt with and I want to port his number to google voice but I haven’t faced that and and and deadlocks again because I don’t know what part of all that I have to do first. I’m religiously keeping the device charged like that helps anyone. I put on his “work” playlist on his phone and ironically it starts with Pink singing “I lost my husband”, a stupid breakup song. “I wanna start a fight.” I do empathize with that part.
In one minute I’m going to get up and do something besides headache stare at Notepad++.
Two minutes. I’ll pull back out an old note first. To try to stop crying.