Black

Black mood. Disturbed by the random, rhythmless drips of dead of night rainwater off the building onto the newly installed window air conditioner. Cramps, and a misery behind my eyes, always accompanied by denial, especially at 2AM, that I forced myself to medicate. Inky syrupy sleep, lingering along the new, longer walk to the train, in the rain. Standing, jostled, missed connections, fuzz in my dim, hungry, tea-less semi-consciousness.

Working with an anesthetist who is a chaos generator, who sees no good in me at all. A surgeon who is, outside the actual surgery, a careless human. A patient who needs a translator, had a daughter whose English is not as good as she thinks, a hopeless snarl of inadequate preparation, missed assessment, unavailable translators, lack of follow through, and it was all hitting me in the face like a wet fish dance.

Psychology calls it learned helplessness, when the rat gets shocked no matter what it does, it sits in the middle of the cage, twitching, essentially.

Cramps.

D met me at work, to go find small chairs. But the storm of horizontal torrent is harsh, and we snag a cab home. Another day.

The preferred ISP, after five attempts at connecting us, including two missed times, got us hooked up. Not quite working, because D'd already cancelled them when they showed up finally, appointmentless. He could not give all our numbers and stories one more time, nor could he remember how to pretend to be Bob Newhart and make it funny, so I took over the crappy cell phone that only got decent reception when I was sitting in the window, listened to static/hold music, drank tea, watched the drenching downpours, and relayed messages to the former Mac IT guy (D) at the computer. Moby came over and deigned to be adored, touching both of us with his feline bliss. He is not interested in chasing erasermice today.

We now have connectivity, a telephone. A decent, patched together dinner. Drugs working for me. We'll be fine, we'll be fine, we'll be fine. Poopie. Ow.

I'm up to grey.