The Space of Hyper
Lord Bitweaver’s Journal, 3rd of Colddark, 716
Once again, I woke up a bundle of nerves. When Roxy suggested, “Time to get out of bed?” my knee-jerk response was “What’s in it for me?”
Some lunch helped a bit of course, as it always does, and a couple hours of the afternoon wasted away before we realized it was time to run errands. I have to fill my gas tank far less often now thanks to my five-minute commute, but it eventually gets low, and Costco had a great price today. A small grocery stop later, and it was time for dinner. McCormick sloppy joes, which weren’t bad.
But today was going to be an afternoon of relaxing, so I loaded up a alpha test video game I’d been invited into… and they were shut down for the holidays. Okay, fine, I loaded up my second favorite tension-killer game… only to discover I’d found a sudden ramp-up in the campaign difficulty, dying again and again. I finally said to hell with it. Never mind tension relief.
I’m a bundle of nerves these days. If it weren’t for my brain meds, I’d be non-functional; as it is, I’m slowly losing joy in many of the things that made life happier. Usually it’s because they all require massive outlay of resources on my part that I just don’t have at the moment. I don’t have a solution right now, though clearly I’ll have to find one. One trip to a mental hospital was more than enough for me, thanks.
Work tomorrow. I’m almost thankful.
