"All the mercies that we're given"

 This project of trying to write daily seems more and more doomed to failure or tears with each day that blurs into each other.   I feel like I should be hell bent on self-improvement, and consider myself lucky that I'm still managing to shower daily.  My motivation to do anything seems to run in unchartable paths, as does my interest in things on any given day, so each day's a new festival of disappointment.  

And maybe I need to talk more about the successes, even if they seem unbearably boring.   I did laundry, and cleaned the kitchen, I made a decent attempt at stuffed poblanos, I played in an online rpg. I watched the latest SGN and cried about an empty animal shelter and the ISS. I cuddled beasts.  I tried to read things.  Nothing actively awful happened to me.