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a small sacrifice to satisfy the writing gods

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i opened this box about a  week ago and eventually just closed the page. ignoring it and being reminded that i was hopelessly procrastinating was getting to me. but it was only because i couldn’t find any words to fill it. none.

i figure this habit is getting me nowhere, so today i just started typing, see what sort of result i could come up with. i just tweeted about my ridiculously elevated blood pressure. i know it’s high because of the set of strange physical sensations that accompanies the jacked up numbers. what i am most thankful for, however, is the fact that it didn’t coincide with the vertigo that isn’t vertigo-like condition that my doctor has not been able to diagnose. that would mean i would be flat out in bed, wishing that there was someone or something that would put me out of my misery. so, from that perspective, i feel relatively spiffy and shiny.

what are those strange physical sensations you say? well for one i feel sort of like i am a little bit high. like i am slightly disconnected from my body. my limbs, especially my arms require a certain concentration to function, and my hands are considerably colder. like i was out skating on an outdoor rink without any mittens just a little bit too long. (yes, i wear mittens, it’s the practical thing to do in sub-zero temperatures.) my face feels tight, like i am trying to push it through some obstacle leading with my face, and my cheeks feel hot as if i have experienced an acute shame or embarassment. my vision is a tad blurry. even with my glasses on. oh yes, and i want to puke. elegant, right? tomorrow, or at some point in the future, if i should reread this post, i will have a much more eloquent and evocative description of the set of sensations i am feeling now, but i am cramming stuff into the box, no time for deep contemplation or reaching for the perfect words. i am gettin’ ‘er done.

i am about accomplishments today. i just finished posting a dozen or so pictures into my photoblog, so i have no reason to reach for more, but i am. i am running out of steam. i don’t know why i am engaging in this exercise. no one really wants to read about the minutae of my life. i don’t cook, sew, crochet or create beauty out of nothing. i’m just plodding along in my little life, making due. it’s as if i am chasing a dream and the spectre of the images i can’t quite remember and the memory of it haunts me.

but enough of that for now. right now i have more mundane matters to attend to. there’s a library book that needs returning and shopping to be done.


About d.

a practical dreamer, a wanna be artist, a dabbler in writing, photography and whatever other shiny thing catches my fancy

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