First of all, it wasn't the fridge. It was a smoke detector battery. In a smoke detector we didn't know we had, because it had been left behind at the back of a cupboard over the fridge that I was certain I'd cleared long ago. I was wrong.
The repair guy did not charge us. I gave him some tomatoes.
I've been stammering. A known phenomenon, but always limited, situational, transient. Over the past few months, it's crept up on me, persistent and accumulating. I can't get a word out, and I get very frustrated with inarticulation. When still struggling to form words after a long weekend, time to call EAP. They had a cancellation. Seen. Now I have a PTSD diagnosis. I think this is accurate. Further therapy to follow.
Also spent most of the day running. As in the runs. Severe trots. Hoping I'm not contagious, but likely, am. Have felt better.
Suspecting this is a typical sort of stress response for me. My life is at ease, safe, so the bubble of crap bursts with the lowered pressure. I can handle it now, so the demon appears.
The house across the street that burned last year, was torn down today. Just a pile of rubble.
5 comments:
Good news about the smoke detector, but not so good about the rest.
Take care and try to be more cat-like.
Without wishing to be too flippant or, as a past British comic used to say, mock the afflicted, I trust some 'dry' times will return very soon.
RR,
I'm not using the litter boxes...
Tom,
Thanks for the company, misery.
Hidden smoke detector... I wonder what else you may find, days, months, years from now that previous owners have left for you.
Convenient that a spot opened up and also good that there is a diagnosis and treatment plan.
I haven't been running lately, I ought to start again.
Phil,
I dread to think. I hope you have a better motivation to run.
Post a Comment