I do not feel well and my spirits don't either and I do not know whether the pollen, a virus, or Donald Trump is to blame. Or the anxiety and/or depression.
One never knows. Is mental illness making my body ill or am I dying which would probably cause my spirits to lag?
The eternal conundrum of course and of course I don't feel like doing anything which would help either situation. I can't abide the thought of a walk nor working out in the garden- the two things which would certainly help my psyche- nor am I the sort of person who takes to her bed which might help with my physical being because I could barely get out of it to begin with this morning but would have been happy to sleep on into midday.
So. I am moving about slowly trying to do this and that, things not strenuous but not especially restful, either. Everything I do feels completely pointless whether it's laundry or taking the trash. If I'm dying not a bit of that will matter.
To me, at least.
Well, that's the report here. The baby chicks are lovely and I think I'll go get some carrot greens to put in their bathtub home for them to play with and pick at. It must be horribly boring to hang out all day long in a bathtub with nothing but food and water and each other and eternal lightbulb light as distraction. If they were being mama-raised they would certainly be out with her, scratching and enjoying the day and eating whatever they could come across and manage with their tiny beaks. Maybe I'll just sit and watch them all day long pretending to be a lazy cat who has no desire to use my horrible sharp teeth nor my terrible sharp claws but just to watch and drowse and entertain dreams of former days, higher glories, and a lot more energy.