when i said i'd take it i meant as is

I'm a bit wobbly at the moment, it seems - I keep thinking myself in circles around last night I woke up terrified/blue lights were floating around my walls/only to later realise it's just an ambulance on a late-night call/a grim 2am reminder of my own mortality/I only wish that I could find a way/to accurately describe the effect this has had on me; I guess it's pretty telling that I shuffle in my sleep/admittedly it leaves me with a bed that's rarely neatly made/I wake up every morning, my back pressed against the wall/what my sleeping body's scared of I'm not really sure at all - and there are a few obvious reasons (ongoing Situation; two hours of one-on-one interview for trans-activist purposes so far this week; and Monday and Tuesday both involved trips home via Dead People; never feeling like I've got enough done) and probably some more underlying January Is Always The Worst And February Isn't Much Better. When looked at that way, I'm mostly pleased I'm only this bad.

Still, I wish I had a word for the way the world glitches, stutters, when you run out of executive function briefly but repeatedly because you're pushing yourself too hard.

Still, I've got some useful things done today: I didn't go into work and therefore was not even briefly tempted to cross picket lines (I'm a crip in wheelchair-inaccessible accommodation; there's a tube stop right over the road from me; it makes a big difference to how functional I am; intersectionality is hard, y'all); I sorted out the monitor that was Being Difficult; I made lasagne and salad; I poked my compost bin gently; I did a small pile of VP admin; I got caught up on 2/3rds of the work stuff that was scaring me; I kept the kitchen tidy; the Situation with the Partner got some useful progress made on it last night; I'm caught up on all the scary e-mail; I had some really useful conversations with my housemate, including one that goes some way towards explaining why my attitudes to activism and science differ so very much. And I e-mailed my counsellor to set up a date sometime next week.

Oh, also, I seem to have failed to mention - over the weekend we made it to a garden centre and I got my garden started, about which I am really excited. I accidentally a Scarborough Fair pot - I bought parsley, garden mint, sage, thyme, and rosemary plants, and had a pot with space for four things in, and realised I had to do the obvious - and I have seeds to go in in about March (basil and chives for a pot; and poppies, Margeriten, globe thistles, and corn flowers for the scrappy little border along one edge of the patio that will look much better for having wildflowers in it). My housemate put in some rhubarb; my subsidised compost bin - mentioned briefly above - arrived, and has been installed and filled up with a winter's worth of leaf mulch from the patio. Still to come, in their season: tomato plants, some strawberry plants, and if I can track any down some bilberries. I am resisting the urge to plant a camellia because I'd only be sad at having to leave it behind; I am probably not going to resist the urge to put a clematis up some of the sad empty trellises. (At this point it's been a month since I asked whether I was permitted to do things to the garden and I've not had a response; as such, given the state it was in, I'm just going ahead with a reasonably light touch.)