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Apr. 9th, 2021 10:16 pmRocking just enough of a fever from my second pfizer shot that I'm more than a little bit miserable. (100.3-100.5) Happy to have it in my arm, things are starting to feel almost-real, both Abundance and Light got the J&J shots today and yesterday. On the way home from the appointment, I whined at Light that I wanted everything and nothing to change. He pointed out that I can want things to change without feeling prepared for things to change. Thinking about all the things I'm hoping to someday do, like hugging non cohabitating partners and going to a doctor for something other than an ailment that feels like it could get dire if left untreated, the one that got me crying was going into my local bookstore again.
Fever dreams suck, and seem to feature finding doors in my house, turning down money my parents offer me and ticks.
People talk about hanging out with friends and I don't think I can remember who that would be? Did I have friends? Was it all shared-interested groups that I've bowed out of? Did I have things before all the nannying and being intimately involved with someone else's major illness that I just don't remember? Do I want to seek anything out, is there a world in which I find an interesting affinity group to which I would like to belong? I wonder why I'm so dead set against looking like I'm trying too hard. Is it that I think I'll be more likeable if I give fewer fucks? How earnestly do I care about people liking me? I mean, of course I want everyone to like me, that feels like a direct path to safety, but if I'm worried about being safe, what do I think I'm in danger of? Misinformation? Sure, that's always going to happen. Being unwelcome in places I'd like to be welcome in? That's almost certainly also going to be true, and it's not uniquely true for me. In my imagination, i want people to cook for and take care of and rant about books and systemic injustices and tell too many stories about my pets.
It's far too early to worry about any of these things, but when has that ever stopped me.
Fever dreams suck, and seem to feature finding doors in my house, turning down money my parents offer me and ticks.
People talk about hanging out with friends and I don't think I can remember who that would be? Did I have friends? Was it all shared-interested groups that I've bowed out of? Did I have things before all the nannying and being intimately involved with someone else's major illness that I just don't remember? Do I want to seek anything out, is there a world in which I find an interesting affinity group to which I would like to belong? I wonder why I'm so dead set against looking like I'm trying too hard. Is it that I think I'll be more likeable if I give fewer fucks? How earnestly do I care about people liking me? I mean, of course I want everyone to like me, that feels like a direct path to safety, but if I'm worried about being safe, what do I think I'm in danger of? Misinformation? Sure, that's always going to happen. Being unwelcome in places I'd like to be welcome in? That's almost certainly also going to be true, and it's not uniquely true for me. In my imagination, i want people to cook for and take care of and rant about books and systemic injustices and tell too many stories about my pets.
It's far too early to worry about any of these things, but when has that ever stopped me.
