One Who Wanders (abiona) wrote,
One Who Wanders

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naturally spicy squidlings

I'm too tired to make this entry cohesive.

In the darkness, the hills drew close. All that could be clearly discerned was the silver road before us, curving through mist and the gleam of headlights.

We arrived in Second City at a very late hour. We stared at a sparkly building when an accident at our exit prevented us from leaving the highway with ease, and eventually performed an amazing "back the hell out of this exit and go to the next" maneuver that unknowingly took us right past another car full of folks heading to the same destination, the Anti Dragon Con Shindig.

When everyone arrived, we constituted a living, breathing fire hazard, gamed and ate donuts. I faced a super-hot pot of soup that nearly swallowed me whole. I still cannot justify purchasing an X-box just to smack zombies in the face with a hot frying pan.

Our departure was much sooner than I had hoped for, but driving during the daylight hours did give a better glimpse of the crumpled rock on which our state exists.

I didn't take very many pictures this time around, I am afraid.

- Val's incredible tan.
- Jez looking stylish.
- Val and Ollie (and Dave looking like he doesn't know quite what to do in this situation).
- Dave is so skilled, he can talk and pwn at the same time.


Despite things generally looking up (possessing an income, an increased nutritional intake, etc.), I've been under some sort of energy deficit for two solid months. My mother suspects anemia, but with no such condition in my medical history, I believe it is more likely to be related to some funked up emotional perspective, of which I have (had) plenty. The sensation is at its worst when I am at work or at home. If I am traveling or out taking photographs, I do not feel nearly as catatonic ... hence the problem probably lies in the heart, not the body.

It is fortunate that breathing is not a voluntary activity, otherwise I'd probably forget to do it. I sit in my chair and feel as though my spine is slipping out of my body and falling to the floor. When I am awake, my frame feels like crumpled paper. If I make the mistake of lying down, it is like I become grafted to the carpet, and the floor becomes comfortable out of necessity. It is such a strange feeling because I usually have a deep well of energy within me, even if I do not make the most of it. At work, it's "I can't crash now, I can't crash now," and at home, it's "I've gotta crash now, I've gotta crash now."
Tags: second city

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