As I sit here in a fuzzy bubble of meh, I have to take a moment to accept that nah, I’m not really any better. If I were, I’d be making the rounds of social networks properly, and actually talking to friends. Mind, I do feel more stable, but… could it be the Zoloft? I really don’t know. I do know that just the ambient noise of people in this house has spiked my anxiety to a point where I want to lash out, though not much I can do about that besides telling people to go away (in progress).
Really though, I’m tired. My kiddo sprained her ankle a few days ago, and being 3 and some, she’s especially stubborn about everything. So she’s being especially snotty about us horrible big people trying to make her walk on it, even though it’s not broken, barely bruised, and it doesn’t hurt her to put pressure on it (we’ve been doing hand manipulation/physio on it, and she’ll happily shove her little foot into our hands). She was already trying to be extra demanding of being picked up and carried, so this plays right into her desire wheelhouse. *grumps*
Ah well, what can I really do but continue to take things as they come? *smiles wanly* It’s not like things are bad — they’re just a bit meh. I’m not quite apathetic, I’m not quite frazzled, I’m just sort of here, occasionally spiking, but mainly flowing onward. It’s hard to qualify it in black or white concrete terms, hence settling for something sort of indifferent. It is what is. Maybe it’s a coping mechanism, maybe it’s just age getting to me (*shakes walker impotently*). It is what is.
Anyhoos, me and my overly reflective self are going to enjoy this Cup-a-Soup that I retrieved from its secret location (I only like Minestrone, so I hide it to make sure there’s some for me), and then return to the workplace joy that is achieving balance… in accounts. But hey, balance! *grins*
Hope everyone is having a good one.