'Public' just isn't something I do well lately. Putting myself out there mingling with others can be harder some days more than others. These are those days.
This panic and dread run like a current of electricity deep in the depths of me. I'm a jellyfish. I feel the fool, cought in a momentarily stunned response during encounters with most social settings. My mind sets itself on fleeing, on evading what may be neccessary, and what should not be put off.
But there I go - off again... going as always.
Loco-motive
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You'd be dismayed by the way my mood sashays around indifference. It is not placid, as it has nothing to do with tolerance or content. Indifference is a lack of any deep emotion, concern, or care. Today is stagnant and enemy of anything constructive. My moods flip switches and throw me off the rails time to time. The next junction could be an hour from now, the results a crash or pass. All I can do is look out the window.
Foul fowl
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The roadblock has dampened the excitement of replacing our current dilapidated couch. If anyone has suggestions or experience to offer please comment. I'd really appreciate a response immensely.
When in doubt, move the couch
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We will be replacing the old lumpy couch with a brand new one (hopefully this weekend). This time I only want the dogs on it when we are. This will be a tad difficult (that's putting it lightly) seeing Amelie's affinity for climbing. She must have been a mountain goat in a former life the way she maneuvers her way upwards wherever possible with such confidence. The new improved sitting apparatus will be used for doing that alone, not adventure.
I'm such a softy, made so by her pout. She knows how to make my heart melt. None to worry, I'll be figuring out some solution to her entertainment dilemma. A temporary fix is already in place, and I plan on getting a stool or storage for her to prop herself up on. It ain't easy being small, after all. In fact I think that's how the couch got there in the first place.
Heated discussion
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I've shut the house up tight as a drum to keep the temperature down, though sure when my boyfriend gets home he'll insist whipping the doors and windows open.
"Air circulation" he'll say. To which I'll reply, "that's what the fans are for, darling. Really now, honestly..."
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