But I totally feel like crap, and the stuffed animals are keeping their distance. The fifth Covid shot yesterday is like having a mild dose of the flu -- last time it was (mostly) over by tea time, I'm counting on it being okay by then today -- and I know that if I mention this to the rightwingers and sceptics I have to deal with at work they'll pull an "I told you so" and steadfastly refuse their boosters.
Not that I'm particularly concerned about their well-being. Just don't want any of the old festering rectums to croak.
In their case I'm not all heart, I'm all spleen.
I shall suggest to my apartment mate that she get hers pronto, but on a Friday, so that IF she stays home I won't have to deal with it, except in the evening, when it is likely she'll already be asleep. When she feels miserable I feel like I should be making weak tea, and chicken soup, and my nurturing side, such as it exists, disturbs me when it manifests itself. "What is this thing", I say, "that lives inside of me and humanizes the savage beast that I am?"
"I did not ask for this. How inconvenient!"
Then I wonder if I should add some ginger to soothe, and lessen inflamation.
Should I bring over one of the two Totoro? Both?
Perhaps a fuzzy frog?
A while later I go out to smoke. It puts the mind at ease.
While being beneficial to the short time memory.
And vastly improving concentration.
Lizard breath.
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2 comments:
Lizard breath is no doubt better than penis breath.
Is that wishful thinking?
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