I went back to bed and slept. That's better. The sky is blue again, the air brisk. I even found a picture, though it fits better with my previous mood. I have a long day until I see the doctor. I will know more then. This day now is something to to be gotten through.
I'm still in contact with many people at the factory. They are back to work after the season's break and are beginning a big, new project. I will not get as many text messages now as I did over the holidays, I presume. They are a busy people now, many of their hours accounted for.
I must make myself be productive today. There is nobody to do that for me. I could use a kindred spirit to partner with on a project. Or I need a studio, a place where I go to work. Being at home this long has drained my motivations. I know what I want to do, but the walls close in and I grow complacent and contemplative. The day is consumed by minor activities.
It is a waste of my many talents. I live the life of a shut-in. My shrunken world is comprised of home repairs and making meals. I begin to understand the mid-century housewife's addiction to prescription drugs. This to get you going. This to calm you down.
I guess I'll take a walk now and maybe do a home workout after. I should do that art project I've been toying with, but, you know. . . I am so uncertain. No. . . by gosh. . . I think I'll give it a try after all,
If I have time. Did I tell you I have a doctor's appointment this afternoon? Maybe I should just wait until I find out more. Yes. . . that would probably be prudent.