Not just this and that.

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Sure, I am tired.  And, of course, I am sore.  But it's more than that.  My hands are raw from so much washing and scrubbing and... I... need to find gloves that are large enough.  Then I need to buy... four pair?  Keep one or two active.  One for dishes, one pair for... all else?  Yeah.  But to find gloves that are big enough has been a nightmare.  If I found a pair, in the past, and I may have, I didn't follow through and buy more, and I can't find them now.  So... yeah.

While I am doing incredible amounts of work, epic amounts of work is what it will take.  I will not be doing too much today, I just can't.  A shower, setting up dishes, washing bedding, and... maybe a few other small things.  A trip to town would be nice, but not until I have the packages to be returned set up to go.  Then, too, I will do a minor shopping spree... kefir grains, more milk and cream, oh and gloves.  I might have to go to several stores to find gloves?  Although, perhaps, much later tonight I might make it in and get gloves.  My hands have been brutalized.  Both the heat and the moisture just... ragged.  Can't say I haven't been putting in the effort.  It shows on every front.  And... look at the work order for today, as a day of rest?  Yeah.  And more might be done as well.

My mother already received her first Christmas presents.  Since they are seasonal, and it is the season, I didn't mind letting these get there early.  She's a big girl, and I am of the sort where Christmas is... when I say it is.  So it was.  I have one more thing for her, though it might be next month... or... actually... I have a better plan!  It might still be early, but... good.  It, she things, is needed now.  Now is better for grownups and for functional needs.  Ho, ho, ho.

Something to eat though.  I am hungry.  Food doesn't taste good, and that's what I know to be good food.  Fast food tastes very into the negative.  I don't know what has happened but food, drink, old favorites, and new items which should be delights... all... blah.  And, yet, I must eat.  If I can't taste, my stomach, from time to time, does need something.  I don't actually even have hunger, as a sensation.  It is just, somewhere back there, in my mind/body, I receive notifications.  "Feed me."  Not emotional, not dire, just from time to time.  More a whisper on the wind.  Weak.  And, yet, pitiable.  So... feed I will.  And I will work at making it tasty, for what good that is doing me.  It's the idea, I guess, which counts?

Later.