My back muscles must be getting weak in my old age, because I've vomited plenty of times in my life and never ended up with a back spasm. But now? Apparently it's cause enough.

And do you want to know the worst part of laying down after work for the rest of the day so you can try to heal instead of having to take muscle relaxers for a month? It's the filth.

I am not an immaculate housekeeper (except for my kitchen, which I try to keep very clean at all times because I make meals there). But I do try to make sure that I clean up any messes I make, pick up after the cats, and keep the place clean enough that I'm not mortified if somebody drops by.

Except now I can't. Every room is a mess. There's a paper towel I dropped two days ago on the living room floor. The bathroom was already overdue for cleaning. I've got dirty clothes thrown everywhere. There's cracker crumbs by my bed, in my bed, next to the counch, on the couch, and in the couch. Plus the sink is full of dirty dishes. Which mostly belong to the cats because I've been on an all-cracker diet. Which would be fine except fish residue smells after a few days. Badly.

Tonight I finally couldn't take it any more and decided to load the dishwasher as carefully as possible. Only the top rack so I don't have to bend over too far. The silverware I put in the rack on the dishwasher door instead of in the bottom rack like I usually do because it seems they would get cleaner there. I only managed to get the rack on one of the two pegs, but close enough.

Everything was going fine.

Until I bent over to get a soap pellet from the bottom shelf of the cupboard without thinking.

There goes my pill-free day.

So now I'm back on the couch waiting for the muscle relaxer to kick in so I can make my way up the stairs to bed.

In all honesty, I thought climbing in and out of my car would be my downfall, not cat dishes.

What's worse than having a smoke allergy during wildfires? Vomiting so hard that you throw your back into spasm, so now you have two things to torment you.*

On Saturday morning I was feeling so much better. But then nausea returned with a vengeance that night. I had anti-nausea pills left from something, which helped... but they were gone before I knew it and I had to wait until today for that plus some muscle relaxers for the stabbing pain in my back when I move. Or, Lord help me, cough.

Or, you know, violently throw up because you thought pasta salad was a good move.

Fortunately, laying on a heating pad got me through Sunday and the pills got me through my work day today (and I was able to keep dry toast down) so it was more of the same, I suppose.

There was a good thing that happened though.

While laying on the heating pad all day yesterday, I ran across an Australian show on Hulu which is one of the best things I've seen in a minute. I was going to take a pass because it deals with self-harm, but the trailer looked so good...

And I'm ever so glad I watched it.

It tackles a difficult, sensitive, and painful subject with wit, charm, and compassion... and is entertaining on top of it all. Exactly the diversion I needed, and I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. I'm probably going to watch it again very soon.

There is one lingering question I have about the series that I won't say here because it could spoil things. Maybe it will be answered in the second season. Or maybe it never will because it's supposed to be up to the viewer. It doesn't matter. What does matter is how much I loved In Limbo.

Highest recommendation.

   
   
*Aside from the usual torments of daily life, of course.

And... fire season has arrived.

I honestly thought that we'd somehow get away without a local fire filling the valley with smoke. Fires were around us all Summer, they always are this time of year, but we never had such bad air quality that I ended up sick. Until today when I could barely function at work and had to leave for part of the day.

Allergies suck bad enough when it's pollen... but smoke? That goes past being uncomfortable to debilitating shades of misery and suffering. I feel my lungs itching from inside and there's nothing that can fix it. Breathing is tough. And eating anything more than crackers is impossible.

So here I sit confined to my house with air purifiers on full-blast and every entry sealed... eating soda crackers and drinking 7-Up Zero while trying to ignore the fact that I wish I could pass out from having been outside.

Hopefully things will clear up over the weekend so I won't have to go through this all over again on Monday.

It's gotten to the point where I'm afraid to read the news.

I keep adding key words to automatically delete the horrors of the day from my feed reader but, with new horrors arriving daily, it's a never-ending battle. Just when I think I've filtered out everything that sends my anxiety skyrocketing, heeeeeeere comes dread and despair!

The sad thing is that I usually pride myself on being up on current events and well-informed about what's going on in the world... but this? This?!??

Where is that world-ending giant meteor when you really need it?

My bedroom windows don't have blinds on them.

When she was little, Jenny got tangled up in the blinds that came with my place, so I removed them from every window in the house except the living room and guest room (those windows are quite large, so I just raised the blinds out of reach). My bedroom is on the second floor so it doesn't really matter. I suppose if somebody wants to climb a ladder or fly a drone up to watch me sleep... then oh well.

On clear nights, the stars are visible. Most times it doesn't phase me... I just look out and think something like "Oh... that's nice!" But there are times that I am quite phased.

Such as when there was this twinkling star that I kept thinking was an airplane. Except it stayed in the same spot in the sky. For a time. Turns out it wasn't an airplane, it was the planet Mars.

Right now when I lay on my bed and look out my window, I see three of the brightest observable stars in the night sky in the handle of The Big Dipper (AKA Ursa Major AKA Great Bear AKA The Plough)...

The stars, from left-to-right are Alkaid (35th brightest*), Mizar, and Alioth (31st brightest*). Alioth is so bright it was used for celestial navigation. Maybe it still is. Whatever the case, it and the other two stars keep distracting me while I'm trying to fall asleep.

Also distracting? Reading about these three stars on Wikipedia. Mizar, in particular, is absolutely fascinating.

I do feel lucky that Arcturus from the Little Dipper (4th brightest star in the sky*) is jussssst out of view of my window. Though that might change as the stars move around. Once more distraction from my getting a decent night's sleep...

But that's the night, now it's morning and time to face the horrors of the day.

   
*The rank of brightness varies depending on the list... I'm using 31st and 35th because that's what my StarWalk 2 app says. Wikipedia says Alkaid is 40th and Alioth is 32nd, so who knows?

The one-upmanship of life's miseries is physically exhausting.

You're not allowed to feel sad because there are people who have more reason to be sad than you. You're not allowed to feel afraid because there are people who have more reason to be afraid than you. You're not allowed to feel anything any more because there's always, always, a person out there worse off than you. Money, health, security, work, misfortune, friends, family, life, death... whatever the situation... you don't get feel what you're feeling because somebody somewhere has it worse. So what are you complaining about, you ungrateful piece of shit?

And God forbid if anything good actually happens to you. Heaven help you if you manage to carve out a little slice of happiness for yourself. You see something you enjoy, do something fun, go somewhere nice, get to experience something that makes you happy. Because then... then... you're just rubbing it in the faces of people who didn't get experience what you did.

No matter how meager it might be.

And it always escalates in bonkers ways...

"What did you do this weekend?"

"I watched this movie on Netflix I really enjoyed."

"Oh yeah? Well I know somebody who doesn't have a Netflix account. They don't have a television. In fact, they don't even have a home to put a television into. They probably can't even remember what it's like to watch television. Do you want to know what they probably did this weekend? They sat in their grandmothers unheated basement staring at the wall while eating a can of beans. AND IT WAS COLD BEANS BECAUSE THEY DON'T HAVE A MICROWAVE!"

And then...

"Really? Must be nice... because I read in the news about somebody whose grandmother DIED yesterday!"

But I exaggerate.

Kinda.

Because while this fictional conversation (likely) hasn't happened, it's a pretty accurate scenario generally speaking.

At least from my experience lately.

Well, this day was awful. Which you can read about tomorrow. Suffice to say that I am wondering exactly how much longer I have before I collapse in a pile of anxiety and have a heart attack. There is no corner of my life that is consistently stress-free except one, and then even that went off like a (temporary) bomb.

But hey, maybe I'll die of the mother-fucking plague and won't have to worry about it. Fingers crossed. Though with dipshit anti-science fuckhead RFK Jr. in charge of America's health, I probably don't need to cross my fingers. It almost seems inevitable that I'll die of the plague. Or whatever major health crisis drops on us which could have been addressed by science, but RFK Jr. killed mRNA research... or what-the-fuck-ever miracle that scientists were working on... so we're all hopelessly fucked.

If only I could just stick my head in the sand and pretend that the world isn't a toxic pile of shit, I could have a stable baseline from which I could deal with all the other anxiety-inducing shit assaulting me.... but no. This is our normal now.

I'm choosing to embrace the horror.

What else is there?

But anyway...

Today when I got home from work (and was preparing to do more work) I happened across an article "debunking" the infamous Jenny Nicholson video: The Spectacular Failure of the Star Wars Hotel. It had me laughing out loud because it clearly... clearly... failed badly to "debunk" shit. Jenny, who is the absolute dream guest for a themed hotel because she lives for this stuff, nailed it. She fucking nailed it. She manages to clearly explain why her trip sucked, make comparisons to alternatives, use her vast knowledge of immersive experiences to critique what was offered, brutally dissect Disney's endless greed and incompetence, all while presenting it in a way only she can.

It's glorious.

So tonight I've had it playing while I work... for the sixth time. Which is insane considering the video is four hours long. But I can't help it. Every minute of those four hours is gold. If you haven't watched it, I can't possibly recommend it more...

And, on that note, back to work I guess. Good night. Don't let the plague doctor bite.

The other day on the way home from work I turned onto a street and there was a pickup stopped in my lane. He was talking to somebody parked on the side of the road. I didn't give it another thought, because I could just drive around since there was nobody coming in the opposite direction. No harm no foul.

But then...

The guy in the truck decided to punch it and try to race me so I couldn't get back in my lane.

What a fucking asshole.

I should have just laid on the horn when I came around the corner.

What is it with people? What was the thinking here? HE was in the wrong, I was just trying to get home after a long day at work without interrupting his conversation.

I guess some people are just assholes.

And then... then... I came home and found it not overly hot, so I decided to pull some weeds out of my plant and flower beds. Which was a mistake. Even though I was done in 35 minutes, I was physically wrecked. Sore legs. Acing back. So embarrassing. I guess maybe I need to do stuff like this more often?

When my mom was in the memory care facility, we made a lot of trips to Fred Meyer. The store has everything she could possibly need, from clothes to toothpaste. On bad days I would either take her to the Freddy's just down the street. Or go alone.

But on good days where I thought she could handle a lunch out? We'd go to the Freddy's 10 minutes to the north where there was a restaurant she liked. On very good days when it seemed she could be out longer, we drove to the Freddy's 20 minutes to the south. There's an Indian Restaurant there I love, and they were happy to make something that mom would like.

I ended up at Fred Meyer every other week when I visited her so I could get whatever my mom needed. But it's the trips we made together for lunch and shopping at Freddy's that I remember whenever I drive by one of their stores. I'm sure we must have done that 30 times. Maybe more.

Now it seems as though the Freddy's to the north is closing, and the one to the south may be closing as well (I know the QFC to the south is closing). I can't help but be a little sad, even though I never shop there now that mom is gone. My nearest Fred Meyer is a half-hour away, so I only get there when I'm already in the area.

Back in the day you may have been able to "find it at Freddy's" (as in the commercial below), but now you're going to have a hard time finding the Freddy's to find what you're needing to find....

What a shame.

But I'm glad they were there when I needed them.

I have been trying to fill in some gaps in my collections on eBay whenever I have a dollar to spare. Most of the sellers on the platform are exceptional. They are honest about the item... they want you to be happy with your purchase... they go above and beyond if there's any issue. All the great experiences I have is what keeps me coming back.

And then there's the scams.

I bought two prints. I only received one.

Then I looked back through the comments from other buyers and found out that the seller does this ALL THE TIME. But it gets worse... the print I received was not authentic! The seller denied it, but let me return it.

Then the seller refused to refund the entire purchase price because the item "was not returned in the same condition." Fortunately, after I found out the seller was a scammer piece of crap, I thought to take a ton of photos.

Not only was it returned in the same condition I received it... I used the same packaging... THEN ADDED EXTRA PACKAGING AROUND IT!

But nope... the seller knew they were caught with a fake and claimed "damage" to get money out of me. Naturally I reported it to eBay. And, because other buyers had problems with the seller, I had my full refund within the hour. The fact that eBay stepped up to protect me from an obvious scammer is what will keep me a customer. But it doesn't make it any less stressful knowing that more scammers are out there.

One thing you can bet on... I will be reading the customer reviews very carefully going forward.