Rough?

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Slight aches and pains.  Lost control of sleep.  Can't eat much.  But, I suppose, not truly rough.  Just... not in control, not moving forward, not getting things done, and not able to switch gears, rock it back and forth from drive to reverse to escape the ruts, stuck.  Not a bad place to be, just... the doldrums.

When it gets like this, I just have to wait it out.  Coffee, fatted coffee, shortly.  It isn't helping, but it does add calories, and calories of a sort I can use, handle to take in.  The caffeine, at this point in my health or wellness cycle, might as well be water.  Still, I'll... take it.

Meat sticks, while dull, offer just a bit of protein.  As does pork hocks.  Though I don't want to eat the pickled items daily.  Or in small amounts if so.  Both expensive, and... that vinegar gets to me.  Plus the meat is pretty hard?  Like a knot, in the stomach.  It takes a while for my body to sort.  Then again, it takes my body a while to sort everything, which is why food feels like cardboard in my gut.  It's just sitting there.  Could be worse.  Nausea was horrible.  To date, it seems like I fixed that.  And, if it comes back, I have the ticket for it.  Bitters.

Sassy was fed.  Her litter boxes cleared.  I am making the bed pretty much every day.  I might have missed one day?  But, even then, I generally make it before bed if so.  It is so very easy to make.  This week I'll wash the sheets, air out the mattresses (just here in the house), and reset the bed.  A weekly thing.  Monthly, I'll do a bit more.  And quarterly much more.  I'm not sure how often I'll air the duvet, but I could see that being weekly or biweekly.  So easy, this new way.

A shower before long.  Then setting up dishes for a run through the machine later.  I don't know if I can get to even that, but that is the plan.  I'll hold off on other plans until I get to that.  I am opening the house up, for fresh air since it is 54 out there.  Could it get warmer?  Maybe.  But even if it stays right there for a few hours, fresh air intake is a boon I won't pass up.  Just a few hours, furnace off, but furnace fan going.  Oh, I'll open a few more windows upstairs, while at it, too.

Coffee should be about ready to pour.  I use something like a pour through, with a paper filter.  But the steel mesh and paper filter fit down in the water, in the quart jar, keeping the grinds out of the liquid.  I don't trust just steel, something about toxins in the coffee?  I believe.  The industry is backing off of using paper filters, for "green".  Which... tells me between food and medical, they really just want people dead.  Or... green uber alles.  ...All with green, nothing outside green, nothing against green.  Take your pick.  It's... not about green, or state, or else.  It's about a hatred for life, when you get to the bottom of it.  Some lives, as they say, are more equal than others.  Seriously.  They have to know that coffee has toxins paper can filter.  If they aren't using it, they really are choosing supposed green ideas over your health.  Ah, but don't worry.  It won't catch up to you until you are in your forties or fifties.  The vaxes will get you far quicker.

Dreaming.  Of women.  At least it isn't of the more intense nature.  Not even snuggling.  Just... conversations.  New, to my mind or conscious memory, and some old.  Women ask the damnedest questions.  They don't agree, or believe, but if you are honest and say it straight, they know.  They do know the truth when they hear it.  But, being women, the truth isn't... as important.  It's like they just want to make sure you aren't an complete idiot, but have absolutely no intention of following you into truth or reality.  They will enjoy being a cat, not a man people.  Boobs, and stuff.  Don't need to, so long as they catch a man to do it for them?  Or... some such.  They know, they just don't care, as long as you are taking care of certain aspects of reality.  They might popularize you, if you say what they want to hear, for a while.  But they will eventually find a real man.  Clever girls.  :)

I don't mind.  Remember.  A woman plays a game with a totally different set of rules, most are never explained (to you).  It's not even that they always know.  Consciously.  Remember the chicken in the box, that plays tic-tac-toe?  It's... not playing tic-tac-toe... it is eating.  It needs to win to eat.  Women?  Need to lose, to win, genetically, economically, socially... by a man's standard.  By losing, they own you.  Whole... other game.  If they have to be a stupid girl, sometimes, so be it.  Just... understand, it's a mask.  She isn't the prize, her body is the bait.  Clever indeed.

Anyway, yes.  I... went over the game, the rules, and else.  They... will change the game, and the rules, at a moments notice.  Or... just stop playing.  What you want isn't important.  Even what they think they want, isn't important, even to them.  Psyops, thy name is woman.  De licious.  So... yeah.  Oh, I don't get it all, but... I do get it enough to know... it's their game.  I just either enter their illusions, delusions, neurosis, or I don't.  Not my game.  Sure enjoyed the... game theory sessions.

I'll... try to get a shower shortly.  Then dishes going.  Then... see what else I can do with the world.  Oh, right, to open up a few more windows, turn the heat off, and make sure the fan is going.  Good afternoon, and later.