It is so wonderfully hot outside. I have been sitting in the sun for the last week or so because 1. It has been raining and raining here and we are finally getting a summer and 2. I am so pale and I need a tan. So I have been sitting on the back deck in my bra and shorts being grateful that I have total privacy back there. When I was a teenager I used to tan all the time and got so dark that I was darker than my indigenous (step) dad. He also spent a lot of time in the sun but I was still darker. These days I am liken to bleached flour. Yeah, yeah, yeah. We shouldn’t sit in the sun but what are we allowed to do these days that isn’t going to move us closer to being tits up?
Right before I started posting I was eating 1/4 of a watermelon. My husband is away at a Tragically Hip concert so I was eating it like it was a bowl and just chowing down. To hell with manners when nobody is at home but me and Norbert. He drinks out of the toilet and I have no problem reminding him of that when he looks at me all self-righteously and calls me a barbarian. At least I don’t go outside and get a twig stuck on my eyelashes without enough sense to take it off. Really. He has no life skills and I have no idea how me manages when he escapes and gets outside.
Today I feel all accomplished because I got groceries. And hung clothes on the line. Mostly the last few
weeks months I have been feeling just…sad. Actually, I am not a doctor (obviously) and I haven’t spoken to my own doctor about this but I am fairly certain I have Dysthymic Disorder. It helps a little, very little, to have a diagnosis attached to this general feeling of never-really-happy and it makes me feel more discouraged that this is likely going to be me for the rest of my life. I used to have the most amazing doctor but he retired and I can’t bring myself to go see his replacement who is always in a rush. (She spent just over 10 minutes with me during my last physical, an appointment that is supposed to last 30.) Right now I can’t handle someone thinking me a number to get in and out of her office in record time. And there are no doctors taking new patients, thank you very much and Welcome to Canada. I know I shouldn’t complain and should feel grateful. But fuck it. I don’t. I just feel sad.
Well, I have more clothes to hang on the line. And I think I will go clean the bathroom. Or not. I will probably go watch something on Netflix.