Woke up hurting in multiple places and in a sour mood. Hurting less now that I am up and moving around, but haven't been able to improve my mood. Quite the reverse.
Forgot to take my thyroid medicine when I fed the cats. The darned pills come with instructions to take them with a full glass of water and then consume nothing else -- nothing at all -- for at least thirty minutes afterward. So that was time lost, with a full cup of fresh coffee sitting over one of the between-the-burner pilot lights of the stove with a saucer over the top and a box of UHT "shelf milk" cooling down in the freezer for cereal while the timer ticked down.
Nothing doesn't irk me this morning. Not the most innocent or amusing comment.
It's a symptom of prolonged stress. Even before the viral pandemic, changes at my work had me on edge. The small company I work for was purchased by a much larger, publicly-traded company, with their own and quite different culture, procedures and expectations. I have been through this kind of thing once before and it didn't end well; my expectations for the present experience are pretty low. I'd like to hold on until full retirement age but it's just a hope.
The weather has been miserable so far this Spring, mostly cold, cloudy and rainy, the kind of wretched rain that varies in intensity but never goes away, chilly and penetrating.
The new cat is so full of energy that my cat Huck now hides from him unless it's meal time or he's minded to fight. Huck rarely comes to sleep on me when I go to bed, preferring to wait until the small hours of the morning when the younger cat is quieter to sneak in and settle down on my legs. It makes me sad. I miss him.
I'm not getting near enough done. Can't focus. Can't stick with it. Days off, I sleep and sleep, cook and veg out at the computer or in front of the TV. Weekday evenings are about the same. I hate it but can't get out of the pattern.
Don't have a summary or a nice, snappy thought to end with. One endeavors to persevere.