I’ve had quite a few days recently where I haven’t been able to do much at all – I wake up in pain and feeling exhausted, and struggle to get even 10 hours of upright time between getting up and going back to bed. I’m not sure why this is happening BUT I HATE IT! I think it’s partly a fibromyalgia flare up, and partly some depression creeping back in, but I’m really reluctant to bump the dose of the new drug back up. (Well, not so new now, we’ve been trying to get the right dosage sorted since MAY, dammit! It takes a minimum of 6 weeks for any change to happen, since it’s stored in bodyfat, of which I have copious amounts. Not least because of the appetite stimulating properties of this particular drug…)
I haven’t been doing much art journaling, either. So no interesting pics to show you from there.
I totally ignored International Digital Scrapbooking Day this year – I already have so many kits that I hardly use. I think I’ve worked out WHY – there’s not enough ME in them. I love seeing the clever things that all those talented designers do, but I’m really more into messing around with my own scribbles and background papers – although I do love a good collage kit, especially when I have a working printer to play with.
And I’m still quite frustrated on the oboe – I CANNOT make more than one note on the damn reed – I am going to try some different brands this pay, I hope. IF there’s enough money once the water rates bill and the insurance bills and everybloodythingelse bills are paid, that is.
How ’bout some books I’ve been reading? (all from the town library – bless their cotton socks, I don’t know what I would do without them!)
This is a collection of short (usually around 900 words) essays that Lisa Scottoline writes as a Sunday column for the Philadelphia Enquirer. (You can read some of the most recent columns on her site, to give you an idea.) I had read some of Scottoline’s earlier novels ages ago, but had no idea about this side of her writing until Sandy at Beez in the Belfry mentioned this book in her blog. I loved this book – very everywoman, dealing with spanx (“bodyshapers” that squeeze your fat around from where it was to where it oughtn’t to be) dogs, family, food – it’s a great quick read. Definitely cheered me up.
I have also been reading silly books – paranormal romance (or as Charlie Stross would have it, Fang f**kers) including number 12 in the Argeneau vampire series by Lynsay Sands, Renegade Hunter. And I think it says something significant about how much I’m still struggling with the horrible-non-stop-hungries when I tell you that there was a pizza involved in a sex scene AND ALL I WANTED WAS THEM TO EAT THE DAMN PIZZA already because I was so HUNGRY. Not hot and bothered by the erotic writing, JUST THE FOOD. ARRRRRRRRRRRRGH!
And I’ve also been reading other series mysteries – Susan Wittig Albert’s Texas herb shop owner, China Bayles. This is a series that’s been going for aaaaaaaaaages (since 1992!) but still manages to be fresh and interesting – the characters are well written,and they are not stagnating (unlike some other mystery series which I have given up on!)
This one was an interesting departure because it revolved around a 1912 mystery in a Shaker sect village, as well as the contemporary murder mystery.
And now I must go, as Squeaky The Sheepy is being thrust upon me by Constance the Very Patient Poodle, who has been sitting quietly at my side through most of the afternoon.