Friday the Thirteenth

Hopefully it’s not an unlucky day for anyone reading. Today has been OK for me, but since Wednesday I have been fighting a horrible migraine. Same deal as the one that wrecked me last Thursday when I stayed home from work ~ but at least that one disappeared in a day, while I am on day three of this one, though (crossing fingers) it seems to have abated somewhat. It may have been triggered by eating red grapes on Wednesday ~ I didn’t know that they’re a trigger (now I do after googling), but it makes sense given how I react to red wine. Or it could have been something else entirely. It's usually hard to pinpoint a cause precisely, since so many factors make up a given day. Per a coworker's suggestion, I now have an ice gel pack in the office freezer for the next one. Fun times.

I'm still grieving Gatsby, but I have made progress in the emotional process of adopting a new kitty. It will happen in the next few weeks because I am too lonely without a cat at home. It's not "cheating" on him to love another kitty; in fact, it honors his memory. There are so many who need a good home, but I'm only one person and can only help one at a time. Given my age, this next cat could be the last cat I am able to help directly.

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I am officially bored with Bluesky (Bsky) and the repetitive political comments and memes (even if I agree with them). I could make more of an effort to find alternative feeds (I already regularly check poetry and zoos), but I guess I prefer Facebook after all and updates from those folks I have known for years. I don't feel the need for more friends in meatspace or online, so it's true I make minimal effort and then I go blah dullsville. But so what. What's the great loss if I don't spend time on a particular platform? Uh none.

I do enjoy this blogging "lite" life because I don't feel any obligation to post. I write only when I want to, unlike on my WordPress blog where I felt compelled to post constantly and read all the posts in my feed. As far as "real writing," I am finally over it, both the desire to write new fiction or poetry and the nagging sensation of having unfinished WIPs. What a relief! (Same goes for painting/crafting.)

I'm still puzzled at the hatred people have toward Meghan Markle: they lie in wait for articles about her and then spew vicious comments. It's deeply weird. Then again, I never did understand hate-following or doom-scrolling. When I can't stand something or someone, I try to block it out of my life in hopes of never encountering it again. 

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Tonight I went grocery shopping with the idea of staying inside my condo all day tomorrow, June 14, when people are going to take to the streets to protest our horrible POTUS and his birthday celebration as he throws himself a ridiculously wasteful and grotesque military parade in DC. Nothing like trying to dump poor folks off Medicare while spending $100M on an ego-fest. Though I can't stand the POTUS, I don't want to get involved with any political protesting or be anywhere near any kind of drama.

I had just begun exercising again when this migraine hit on Wednesday, so hopefully I will get back to it tomorrow. I'm also prepping for the new kitty and have bought a covered litterbox, a soft fluffy bed, and other necessities as well as a little bit of generic type food until I know what she likes. You know how you can feel a "ghost" when memories float in? Well, I not only feel Gatsby's ghost, but also I sense the presence of my future kitty.

I've started a new show on Netflix called Sirens. It's pretty good. Would be better with more Bacon scenes.

This week I finished two books: No Place Like Home, a mystery by Mary Higgins Clark (three stars), and The Hating Game, a romance novel by Sally Thorne (four stars). The first had an interesting plot and a great twist toward the end, but I couldn’t relate to the MC at all. Plus there were too many POVs and tense flips. The romance novel was different and clever with witty banter and well rounded characters. There were several interesting side characters as well.