Today was a procrastination day. I did get some work done, but I did, yet again, not make the kind of progress on anything I had hoped to. And I ate too many pretzels in procrastination stress.
|Bertha, the aged window fan.|
The (slightly) cooler weather and my recent absence have made the kittens very friendly. Cooder even indulged me in some actual cuddling.
I might be a little depressed. It could be the heat, but I am, at the very least, out of sorts. And stressed. I know it is kind of silly but I am feeling the pressure of reading that damn book. It is casting a pall over my mental state. Is it unspeakably lame to be stressing about failing to complete a self-appointed task? Who am I disappointing, me or the Kermit Place Readers? Or both. I want to have read it, and I am fairly likely to enjoy a Kermit Place Readers discussion, but boy do I have a challenging (and failing) time reading much of it.
|Cooder chillin' again on the SIP.|
And then there is the "not running on a smooth current" feeling wherein I am not sure of my energy or focus level from minute to minute. Ah well.
Perhaps this is nothing that another night of good sleep cannot cure. Wait. I can't follow the double negatives there (see! too "processor" intensive) ... I did wake up several times in the night, groggily, yet decidedly miserable about life. But I was able to fall back asleep instead of too much tossing and turning. So, yes, I am grateful for that.
|If only I could get her to relax.|