greygirlbeast (greygirlbeast) wrote,

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"So just let me try."

Clouds came in late yesterday afternoon, and the temperatures dropped a few degrees. Outside. Inside, the thermostat in the middle parlour remained stubbornly at 85˚ until well after midnight. Today, the high's only supposed to be in the mid-eighties, so better. It's a conundrum. The heat greatly helps my mood, helps the depression, but the heat also wrecks the rhythm of mine and Spooky's lives. Our lives become disordered and off balance, the depression gets worse. Round and round.

Yesterday, work consisted of sitting here reading over everything I'd written on the New Short Story so far. It's good, but there was a lot of inexplicably broken shit. I spent an hour fixing this, that, and the other before I started to worry I'd lost objectivity, perspective, and wandered away. Because, you know, I have the luxury of "throwing up my hands" in disgust.

The last few days are a blur. Or a smudge. First, that horrid pharmaceutical misstep (back on the old regimen now, for the time being). I've sat and stared at the screen, writing some. Mostly not writing. I've lain on the floor near Dr. Muñoz – because there's a spot of Cool Air on the floor directly in front of the AC. On the iPad, I've watched old episodes on American Masters and The American Experience. On the actual television, Treme and Breaking Bad. I've read. "New specimens of ‘Crocodylus’ pigotti (Crocodylidae) from Rusinga Island, Kenya, and generic reallocation of the species" (Journal of Vertebrate Paleontology, 33:3), "The karstic phenomenon of the Iguanodon Sinkhole and the geomorphological situations of the Mons Basin," "Geodynamic and tectonic context of early Cretaceous Iguanodon-bearing deposits in the Mons Basin," and "Biostratigraphy of the Cretaceous sediments overlying the Wealden facies in the Bernissart area." Cool baths and showers (more Spooky's retreat than mine). I've napped – which I rarely do, even during periods of serious insomnia. Red Bull. Ice tea. Pimm's. Vitamin Water. Pills and pot. Indifferent meals. The drone of an army of electric fans. We haven't made our way down to South County and the shore, because of our tourist aversion. That may change this evening, though we'll probably get thunderstorms. I haven't done much gaming, because it's been too muggy in my office, and, besides, there's a direct correlation between the severity of ill moods and my cynicism towards and boredom with gaming.

Thing is, I don't want a break in the heat.

Round and round.

She Goes,
Aunt Beast

Postscript: Wow. I just realized that as of 2013 I've been on LJ for a decade.
Tags: "ballad of an echo whisperer", depression, gaming, heat, lost days, not writing, pills, reptiles, tourism, weather

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