May. 12th, 2017

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1. People buy scented candles (I have bought scented candles), but I can think of few things that smell nicer than the smell of hot, plain candle wax, especially when used to read by near a nice mirror;
2.I saw the teensiest skunk tonight. I opened the door, thinking it was Ringo the possum (of whom I wanted to get more pictures) or the local stray cat (whom I think might be pregnant, and needs more food and to be lulled so I can get her to a shelter). Slightly longer than my hand, and a tail bigger than it was, with an expression of, "I am fierce and not surprised or scared! This is EXACTLY what 'fierce and not surprised or scared' looks like... right?" I closed the door to let it calm down and adjusted my camera, and Ringo had taken its place (I think Ringo had been waiting it out--- Ringo is never late);
3. I rather like daisy fleabane;
4. I keep being surprised by how nice my own skin feels. In the wake of thyroid awfulness, it was falling apart, rough like Sith repellent. Now it is velvety smooth and supple and so unbroken!
5. More kudos on the Frost piece. I can, apparently, write a very nice account of an uxorious foot rub!
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Today, and the next three days, I have off, if I don't choose to answer my work's pleas for warm bodies. (I may: they're offering point reductions). I have voiced my dissatisfaction with my ill fit with the schedule I have before, but it does afford one very nice thing: after ten days of work, the pleasure of half-waking and thinking muzzily, "Is it time to get up? No... not unless I want it to be." Oddly, I did get up at the same time as usual.

I just found an etymology I like. I thought the phrase "spitballing" for "hastily brainstorm something, which is probably problematic or a little icky," was new-ish, but it apparently refers to the act of muzzle-loading by using one's mouth to spit the ball into the musket, thereby increasing shot speed, but vastly reducing accuracy.
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Got a letter from the landlord today. Was briefly terrified that it was, "we're going pet-free, you'll have to move," "the neighbors complained about you feeding strays/ working from home. You'll have to move." No, it was just, "Your rent is increasing by $20/ month." Which is fine, I've lived here nearly three years and $20? Pfft. The standard where I spent most of my adult life, Chicagoland, is, "rent increases every year (or every other year if the market is super-soft) upon renewal of the lease." But it's odd to me: six weeks of notice, and not on my lease anniversary or anything, no "you have the option of moving without breaking your lease if you don't want to pay this much," no nothing. I guess that's how they do it here?

Rather vexingly, this comes on the very day that the supplement that I find most helpful in controlling my ADD is no longer on Groupon's site, and I shall have to pay full price, $1.60-ish per tablet instead of .60/ tablet. Eep! I really wish I could afford a real psychiatrist, or that I could find one who would work with me on the ADD rather than insisting that I must treat the co-morbidity of depression first. Which is not realistic: that's not how depression with ADD works, I'm told. However, large doses of vitamin D, especially with B-complex and meditation on the side, are VASTLY more effective and have fewer side effects than any anti-depressant I've taken, and depression mostly becomes problematic and dangerous for me for literally eight hours a month, three months a year. ("Well, why don't you get your PMDD treated, Laura?" Because the usual treatment for PMDD is birth control pils, and the brand they use tend, not to take away not the PMDD but the respite therefrom. On the pill, I'm PMS-y ALL THE TIME. My daughter actually recently came to me independently with the same insight on her body. Besides, medical consensus is that PMDD is not a thing anymore.) So, bleh. Life gets more expensive. But on the gripping hand, I am grateful to have found this supplement. I really, really like it and its effects upon my life and cognition.
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Grab a couple of two-liters of highly-caffeinated soda with the probable result of be productive and write stuff and learn stuff and make stuff and purge stuff this weekend?

-or-

Avoid unhealthy eating with the probable result of Netflix/ slashfic binge?

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