To do.

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I have missed several things lately.  Some offered no advance notice.  Those have little chance even in the best of my wasteland of a life.  But others allowed for some significant notice.  Some things I have made.  The difference between one invitation or appointment is nil.  I like to do.  Today is another chance.  I saw the potential for it some time ago, but was unsure.  Surety arrived and so I have some hope of dragging my corpse out of this chair, doing what it takes to get ready, then go.  Matters not what it is.  Only that I still have enough breath to contemplate the notion.

Clean clothes?  I think so but I will have to check.  A shower and shave.  If I do that in stages, leaving plenty of time to dress, but not being ready too early.  It's a tricky thing in my state.  I've been thinking about finding someone to help.  The Lord knows I need it.  That I even saw it coming as a possibility was... remarkable.  The thing is, to get there at the right time.  Time is so odd.  It doesn't make sense in my condition.  Alarms can help but not always.  Truly, you cannot understand.  I do know what it is to be a ghost. Still, that is the goal. 

I was contacted by the dietetic nurse.  I had... lost track of how to contact her, but it was on my mind.  She called, thankfully.  At least I have been checking my blood sugar and gave her a full report.  At this low of a level, she thinks 6mg at night would be good enough.  Hmm?  As I said, the only reason I am not on oral medication is because it either is contraindicated, has serious side effects, or doesn't work.  And... diabetes, with me, comes and goes.  I still can't believe doctors don't believe that such a thing is possible when they have the blood tests to prove it.  Never mind.  I didn't start it yesterday as I couldn't find the stuff.  Luckily I had a spare bottle, as I was told to only use the stuff for a month once opened.  More is supposed to be on the way.  It is supposed to be here today, actually.  Hmm, right.  I don't know when or how, or even by whom, I was told that, only that it is what I was told.

Dreams.  Women.  I don't know why but for the last week I have dreamed of women and sex so often my mind is bruised.  Well, some part of it.  The notion of being a salmon comes to mind.  I just hope I am the type that returns to the sea!  I won't say I despise the dreams.  It truly is very little of what I like about women.  It is just a vital aspect of the attraction and retention of women for me, and Doom for them.  Strange how just a few stitches can mean the garment lasts or not, if that isn't... always the point.  Donning love is such an odd thing.  Yet so right in so many ways.  Sometimes I feel cursed.  Yeah, but... just a little curse?  All night, several of those nights.  Glad the docs have it wrong, that's all I'm saying.  Right through exhaustion, somehow, and without seeming to exacerbate it?  Weird fish, all I'm saying.