Adventures du jour!
I’m having not-a-migraine today: when you have all the other symptoms of a migraine but the headache. Because stuff runs opposite in DeAnna-land sometimes, my steps taken to prevent a visual aura were to take sinus meds, drink a cup of coffee, and play loud music (but over the good headphones because everything else sounds like sandpaper at the moment).
I caught myself going, “Ugh, I’m made of meat” earlier today. I was smellucinating meat smells everywhere. I also lost most of my ability to recognize my own face in the selfies I took. It was a *face*; I just had zero sense of connection to it. Like I was looking at a wax model that was supposed to be me but wasn’t.—I just checked, and other people’s faces look fine. Usually it’s the other way around; other people’s faces look distorted and “melty,” but mine is fine.
I’m not upset about anything in particular today. And I’m functional. It’s just annoying.
…
Yesterday’s writing went well; I cleared the scene I was worried about and today get to write the one that’s even worse. I’m not worried about this one, though, either because I got the worrying out of the way or because I found the tools I needed.
Music playlists are a writing tool for me; if I’ve written a type of scene to a particular song, I can more easily write the same type of scene to that song. I pulled a couple of songs from a previous list, ones that I’d been using to write violence, and plugged them into the current list. It was like my subconscious went “oh! right! that’s what you were looking for, wasn’t it?” and the scene went fine, although I did get stuck on one practical issue for a while.
Then I went to bed and fell asleep like someone had turned out a light. BONK. Woke up to drink some water, went back to sleep.
Yoga went well this morning. I’m getting stronger for those new balance poses, although there’s still a long way to go before I can get into them without hanging on to something. I can at least *do* them for the full count now. I practiced releasing the hip; it hurt less this morning than it has been.
Out on the walk I caught sight of myself in a window and saw that I’m holding my hips better as I walk.–I had a lovely run-in with a stranger this morning.
I was walking in an area I don’t normally walk in. A guy on a long board skated up behind me and scared some birds off the street. I chortled and took his picture as he went by. Then I stopped to pet a cat, by which I mean I stopped to offer to pet a cat and he decided to take me up on it.
The guy circled back around and stopped to say hi. The cat had been his–one of his–but had decided to leave him for a neighbor. As cats do, because they’re spiritual protectors of entire neighborhoods and can tell who needs them most (his words). We had a rambling conversation that was mostly just me poking him for more details and providing supportive anecdotes, like, “Oh, yes, when I was younger I thought I’d be dead by the time I was thirty-six and I couldn’t imagine anything after that.”
–His name is Andrew.
–He is Wiccan.
–His tattoo artist is dead.
–People judge him for his tattoos.
–He loves all animals, including lizards and insects.
–He and his wife are handfasted but not legally married.
–They were married by the tattoo artist’s mother.
–They have no kids.
–He used to be a playboy but was safe about it.
–His sister has a bunch of kids.
–His mom raised her siblings. There were 13 total kids.
–He and his wife have 16 cats, all spayed/neutered.
–He met his wife on OK Cupid during an experiment to find out whether OK Cupid would match him with his siblings because of all their shared interests (it did! I joked that it should be called OK Incest and he nodded like I was making a serious point).
–The dog across the way has bad owners, not that he’s ever met them, but they never take the dog on a walk they just let it looooose around the neighborhood, although it was tied up that morning.
–The cat’s name is SqueakyBuddy.
–At this point another neighbor came out, said hi, and said that the cat’s name was Longlegs, because of his long legs. The cat’s legs were very long. Then she left.
–The guy suddenly gave a little jerk, said, “I’ve talked your ear off long enough,” then skated off with a friendly goodbye.
–If I’d been thinking, I would have taken the selfie with him! But I didn’t.
I swear I’m going to end up a spy network at some point. Unfortunately all my spies will be people who talk too much. Loyal and with good hearts. Fundamentally broken filters. But good folks nonetheless.