Up until today, I pretended that I cared about keeping all of my outdoor potted plants alive. I think I admitted to myself today that I'm over it. There isn't any rain coming anytime soon, and there doesn't seem to be any force out there strong enough to make me go out and water anymore. I did it a couple times this week, but today I am willing to let everything turn brown. Will autumn ever arrive? I know the local weatherman has promised meteorological fall starts at the beginning of September, but that means nothing down here in the Deep South. It's supposed to be hot and dry indefinitely, and I'm so over it.
I checked in with my doctor today, and he chastised me for attempting to eat soft foods yesterday. Today I'm back on just clear liquids. I think I'm okay with it, which surprises me. I can tell that I'm really hungry, but every time I try to imagine consuming anything, I am totally turned off by all foods. Lucky for me, there's no one here who is willing to sneak food to me. Dogs and cats just think I'm a big, cranky pillow, and not a one of them is going to bring me anything from the fridge. So I accept my role as one of the couch cushions, and I will go another few days without eating.
Without consuming measurable calories, there isn't a whole lot to power my brain. Writing is quite the challenge right now. I think it's best I quit the field and go searching through the pictures I tried to take of the cats who made sure I was anchored to the couch all day, to see whether any of them are worth posting. And then I'll drift off to sleep, yet again, and dream about being ready to eat something I can't see through.
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