I have this problem where I don’t consider how minor changes might affect my performance. For example, it was 90 fucking degrees in Portland today, so the idea that I couldn’t just chug my way up the crazy fuck-off hill at the end of my dog walk like I usually do never occurred to me. And now my head hurts so bad I kind of want to stab myself because I’m at least 30% sure a stab wound would hurt less.
Here’s a drawing. It’s all I can do.
I wish it was cool enough to snuggle on the couch with a blanket and read. I used to never understand that shit when I lived in LA. Like, what the fuck are blankets even for? You don’t know. They’re amazing. On a cold, rainy day with a blanket on my lap I am finally, for the first time in my life, a comfortable body temperature.