My initial plan for today was one of active recovery. Perhaps take Angle for a walk, maybe through Oglebay with Suzi and Adora, and maybe Suzi could bring Dagon. Unfortunately, it is raining and cold. I may still take a walk with Angel, but we will walk alone. I also plan to laugh as much as possible, by whatever means possible.
The underlying purpose in this plan was to find a way to recuperate without wasting an entire day scrolling through facebook, reading random articles, and watching random youtube videos. Rarely do I laugh during these mindless meanderings and never do I feel better at their conclusion. Suzi had mentioned playing a board game and finding a movie we could all three enjoy. I will insist on a comedy and leave it at that.
Every single body ache, every dullness in thought, every minor thing is an absolute sure sign that I am dying. I will attempt to reign this in, but it is not easy. I often find myself thinking that it just make sense that such a thing would happen now. I will actively acknowledge this line of thinking as irrational as often as needed.
Yet, this might be exactly what I need. Previous journal entries document exactly how much time I have wasted in the past few months. One can say that I’ve “earned it” in completing my doctorate and passing boards. And if it actually made me feel better, recharged me in some way, I would be fine with it, but that has not been the case. Rather, each day deepened and thickened a sludge of apathy, lethargy, and procrastination that became more and more difficult to wade through. I have felt much better in the past few weeks; however, there was still a sense of just going through the motions. At least there was movement, but no real urgency. I will hold on to this urgency regardless of how things turn out.
I intended to write about this sooner, but I lost my temper the other night. I had remained outwardly calm through everything over the past few weeks. The other night, I believe the night before my jurisprudence exam, so two nights ago, I was walking up the steps with my food when my knife fell off my plate. In an effort to keep it from falling I also spilled a little bit of milk. My response was to head butt my door, stab the table my fish tank sits on, and the bathroom door with the kitchen knife. I was in a state of utter rage. Over gravity. I will make an effort to document any other such incidents as soon as possible afterwards so that I may prevent them in the future. My deamon showed himself in this incident, just briefly. He assured me that he could take away all the anger and worry. Fuck that guy.
