April 19th, 2021

I listen

Would I enjoy it?

I'm a fairly basic eater. For a few days I was more basic because on Saturday the 10th, I chomped the end of my tongue. Bad scratch. It didn't bleed as much as the scene in the original Poltergeist where the tech working in the possessed house imagines his face is falling off, but. Um. Lots of blood. And a small yet annoying injury that took a while to heal.

So for a bit I was not eating anything remotely spicy. I wanted Popeye's spicy chicken, but held off until my tongue healed enough. Because until then, I wouldn't enjoy it. Ow. Ow. Ow...

One thing I've been decent at during quarantine has been judging whether I'd enjoy doing [x], [y], or [z]. I planned at one time to do my trip to the west side on Thursday the 8th, but that day I woke up feeling low-energy and flat, in a way I decided wouldn't be eased by having doughnuts. So I stayed home. Another time, on Monday the 12th, I was scheduling a library item pick-up and on a whim chose a time Wednesday, two days from then instead of the next day, as I usually do. Tuesday the 13th turned into a resting day for me. I wasn't sick — at least I'm reasonably sure I wasn't — but I didn't have the energy. I did by Wednesday. Phew.

I was reasonably productive on Thursday the 15th, doing errands and saying hi to a friend, but as I was finishing a shopping trip to Fred Meyer I realized I'd just hit my limit of wanting to interact with people. So I limited it, going to self-checkout instead of engaging with a clerk at the cash register. No stops at my neighborhood Dutch Bros. coffee drink kiosk around then, either: I wasn't up for talking to such an "up" group as a Dutch Bros. crew. (I was finally up for it yesterday. Got a blended drink on my way home from the library!) Friday the 16th, I stayed home again: usually I try to be out of the house for several hours on Friday, but that time, it wouldn't have been fun.

I wasn't doing my little bit of exercise last week, either. I should have, it's not too strenuous, but in the mood I was in, it would have been hard to do. Maybe resting up was the better decision at the time; and I had the energy today to do it again.

And on a particularly cranky recent day, I realized I was in the mood to listen to Eminem. I've said it before: I pace myself like whoa with him. As good as his music often is, it's so dark and disturbing and often cynical, and I tend to listen to him maybe twice (or thrice) a year. I'm not cranky the way I was when I borrowed Relapse (his 2009 album — I've slowly been listening to his releases chronologically), and now I can listen to it with some distance. And maybe listen to a happier album next...

Pacing myself. It's good to learn.