Okay, the cartoon above isn't that funny since it reminds us that the "vaccines" aren't, and that as miracle drugs go, Paxlovid is about as impressive as a birthday magician pulling a quarter from behind a 5-year-old's ear. Although in fairness, the magician once did that trick in the Oval Office and Joe Biden is still regularly checking his ears for more change.
Mostly, I'm just posting because it's been about a week since I put anything up and I want people to know that Daughter J and I are still chugging along, albeit without a lot of momentum yet. I think I've mentioned that I thought of a minor writing project to distract myself with, right? Well, I have - but the artist I've hired for the job has been out sick lately. Covid? I don't know that it is, but why in Heaven's name wouldn't it be? Anyway, when the project is completed you'll read about it here first - and you'll be able to get your own copy, probably free, at the same time.
I'm currently drinking huge quantities of water (sans Clan MacGregor) in order to hydrate for a possible blood donation on Monday. I say "possible" because so far I've only been able to produce blood once in four visits. Seriously, the staff at the blood bank were high-fiving a turnip for giving more blood than me. Oh, I show up all pink, willing, and sloshy but my veins just skedaddle in the presence of needles or petulantly shut down after giving a single drop of blood. Which is frankly hard on me emotionally. I thought my grand purpose in life at this point would be to bleed extravagantly for those who need it and instead my role just seems to be to keep the chair warm for the next donor. But if at first you suck at bleeding, try, try again.
My weight loss program has been an abject failure to date although I haven't seen any increase in weight because I'm not stepping on a scale again except at gunpoint. It turns out that the funny thing about coping behaviors is that you need them to cope. But I'm working on healthier coping. In fact, I just got a book on living joyfully which was co-authored by the Dalai Lama and Desmond Tutu - and I've never seen a picture of either of them scarfing down a big bag of barbecue chips so I figure they have a lot of useful advice for me.
I also now own every conceivable book about Grief and Grieving, which sounds like the title of a really depressing Jane Austen novel. Which isn't the writing project I referred to earlier, but it's definitely going on my idea list.