Challenge #02306-F116: Expressions of Exasperation
any day is a good day when you’re not on fire
alien looks over nervously – Anon Guest
Humans have such interesting ways to express disappointment with their life at the moment. They can range from the simple and insincere, “Kill me,” to the complicated and difficult to explain to newcomers, “Today… the spiders flakked me.” One can never tell which of the multitude of expressions any given Human would use.
Qosyk, the roommate of Human Jae, kept hearing different ones for every bad day that Human Jae had. They were not frequent downturns, but they were always varied. The first, Qosyk would always remember. Human Jae came back to their shared quarters just as Qosyk had settled into hir sleepy sack. This was not the typical exchange.
Qosyk said, “How has your day been,” in a display of casual non-information gathering. Ze expected the usual, “Same old same old,” but didn’t get it.
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Challenge #01838-E014: Hour of Need — Steemit
So. Let’s recap. Best beloved and most capable person in the house arrested for a crime they couldn’t possibly commit. On a day when she had needed to run around between four different destination, with stops on the way to pick up whatever. And stops at the bank to get her running money for the week because their mutual funds had been frozen and their family still needed to eat.
During the worst storms that the season had to offer.
Everything she needed to work in order to get the hell on with her life had decided that this day was the day to need updates, reboots, and called-in experts to battle with the devices in question. Her plans were disrupted, changed around, and just about blown up in a nuclear holocaust. Only there wasn’t actually any nuclear holocaust. And she had to divert herself at a spare moment to actually go down and provide her Beloved’s alibi.
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Challenge #01506-D045: One Depressing Interlude in a Cosy Home
“Once it was proposed to me that it was all right to be like I am, I finally quit apologizing for it.” - Carrie Fisher – @recklessprudence
Ami collapsed into her comfort nook. “If anyone wants me, I’m no longer in existence.”
Tam sighed and put down her project in her mini-workshop. “Bad day at the office?”
“…it’s a wonderful day for the creative spirit,” Ami mumbled. She curled up tighter on herself and turned on the tiny lights that turned her nook into rainbows.
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Dawn breaks…
Not literally. No. This is a metaphorical dawn. A dawn in the mind.
Followers of my ramblings - the ones who aren’t bots - will know I recently discovered the anti-joy of having a spur in my heel.
It’s painful to walk, most of the time. So I have gained a new appreciation of being able to walk without pain.
And last night… I cooked a meal for the first time in four fargnaxing weeks.
It was a triumph. Nothing fancy. Just pork mince in butter chicken simmer sauce with veggies and pasta. I was overjoyed.
I’m guessing the rest of you are less than impressed, but think about it. Really think. Imagine being unable to walk very far at all for four weeks.
Four frikking weeks. Four weeks of watching the house go to shit and eating pre-packaged snackies because they can be carried to one’s chosen resting spot in a plastic bag. Four weeks of having someone assist you when you need a drink. Four weeks of it being way too much to reach the dishwasher/sink/laundry/bathroom or rubbish bin.
Twenty-eight days of watching your hard work turning into a gigantic slob trail.
Of course, the first day off my crutches, everyone instantly expected me to be All Better and transform into SuperMum and thus wise reverse entropy in a whirlwind of activity.
Even with the heel inserts, it hurt like walking on knives, halfway through the day. I spent all my spoons and was utterly exhausted by the kids’ bedtime.
Three days later, most of the time it’s “stones” or “beads” under my bad foot and I can handle that. Sometimes, it’s “knives” again and I still have to cope because I’m supposed to be all better and nobody is going to help a “malingerer”.
I miss my life before I whacked 90-some kilos of me onto one tiny little spur.
But I can also see the potential of that life coming back. Slowly.
I am never going to take it for granted again.
Everyone who can walk - be glad you have feet that support you, and knees that don’t suddenly decide to quit with a loud “snap” and a pain like being shot. Be grateful you can take one step after the other with blithe breeziness. Be thankful you can run. I still haven’t made the attempt because running requires all of one’s weight landing on one heel again.
It won’t kill me, I’m sure, but it might just make me wish it could. Or set me back into a chair and crying because entropy is winning again.
Be grateful that you don’t have to play “let’s see if I can climb stairs, today” - by the probably painful expedient of trying to mount one stair. It’s odds evens that that “crack and snap” might happen and I’ll be a whimpering heap.
This is why I habitually carry Deep Heat and all my bracers in my purse. Just in case this is the day I’ll need them.
I have a good day when I can muscle through my joint pain or foot pain and get things done anyway. I have a brilliant day when there isn’t any joint pain or foot pain.
And I am getting better. Glacially slowly.
Here’s to more brilliant days.