I'll be your Friend

 Eh, I feel a little weepy tonight for a Tuesday, the least of all days.

I think I literally felt myself get fully over Covid today, and suddenly become hot again. (Aren't I still such a little fuckin' narcissist? I'm getting a bit old for it to be cute, huh?) At least, if not hot, I felt like I didn't look so extremely pale, with sick-looking eyes and a small, helpless, trembling kind of mouth, as I have been the last 12 or 13 days of being so objectively. It's funny because I had this observation when I was in a video call meeting and could see myself objectively in the small screen of my application. I looked okay for once, but my background and foreground colors were turning up and down - my background black behind me, then the sunlight in my hair up to an almost white blazing glare. This isn't me hallucinating because of my year of emotional turmoil and gradual descent into madness; I think there was something fucked up with my settings or contrast. I pinged my coworker and asked if she could see it too, she said "I did notice you were all dark a bit ago." 

But I am really a little weepy, and I did test negative finally. It's cold outside. I don't know why this week is being so hard. Are all things hard, and now this blog is just a tired, whiny chronical of them? I'm the least connected to the stars than I've ever been, but maybe a Mercury retrograde? Something closer to home, like a snowstorm churning up in the weather models for this weekend, the very weekend I had hoped to put myself into the mercy of those same elements? How bad would that be?

I'm probably just burned out and worn out. 

Sunday, I sliced up very thin pieces of a deer my dad killed with his bow a while ago and smoked them way up over a fire in the rain. I cut them too thin and the fire was too hot in the cold; they're more like venison chips than proper jerky. Still, the marinade was good. And the fire was good. Isn't fire always good?