clevermanka (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
clevermanka) wrote2020-02-16 10:13 am
clevermanka) wrote2020-02-16 10:13 am
Sunday Snippet
I have no idea what happened, but fatigue hit me like a truck yesterday. It was bad. Like, it'd been gearing up I guess, but I really hoped my taking it easy most of last week would help. NOPE. A two hour nap was followed by a sobbing breakdown on the couch and y'all know how I feel about crying. Canceled the lunch date I had for today with someone I haven't seen in well over three years and have written off any notions of visiting my friend in New Orleans.
Pretty much barely functioning right now but I have the spoons for interacting with people on the internet (dogs bless y'all internet beloveds) and at least I can write a little bit. I'm holding onto both of those things pretty hard.
Zhao Yunlan stepped up the small rise onto the front porch while digging in his jacket pocket. He unlocked the door and disappeared into the darkness. Shen Wei forced himself to keep breathing and counted out the longest ninety seconds of his life. When Zhao Yunlan finally stepped back outside, his mouth was set in a firm line. He waived in a vaguely beckoning gesture, and Shen Wei stepped out onto their front lawn. Zhao Yunlan patted his shoulder as he passed by to open up the back of the jeep.
“This is gonna be interesting,” he muttered. He grabbed both their large suitcases.
Laden with an armful of groceries, Shen Wei followed him to the house. Crossing the threshold, the produce seemed to turn to lead and he nearly dropped everything from his numb hands. With the exception of the bathroom—he hoped that’s what was behind the one door, anyway—the structure consisted of a single room, with kitchen, sitting space, and sleeping area all within easy view of each other. A wooden ladder leading up to a small loft offered the sole hint of privacy. He swallowed. There was only one bed.
Pretty much barely functioning right now but I have the spoons for interacting with people on the internet (dogs bless y'all internet beloveds) and at least I can write a little bit. I'm holding onto both of those things pretty hard.
Zhao Yunlan stepped up the small rise onto the front porch while digging in his jacket pocket. He unlocked the door and disappeared into the darkness. Shen Wei forced himself to keep breathing and counted out the longest ninety seconds of his life. When Zhao Yunlan finally stepped back outside, his mouth was set in a firm line. He waived in a vaguely beckoning gesture, and Shen Wei stepped out onto their front lawn. Zhao Yunlan patted his shoulder as he passed by to open up the back of the jeep.
“This is gonna be interesting,” he muttered. He grabbed both their large suitcases.
Laden with an armful of groceries, Shen Wei followed him to the house. Crossing the threshold, the produce seemed to turn to lead and he nearly dropped everything from his numb hands. With the exception of the bathroom—he hoped that’s what was behind the one door, anyway—the structure consisted of a single room, with kitchen, sitting space, and sleeping area all within easy view of each other. A wooden ladder leading up to a small loft offered the sole hint of privacy. He swallowed. There was only one bed.
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Anyway. Thank you. It was terrible. Here's to No Crying Today Damn It.
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Here's a bigger Jiang Cheng with a bunny, for No Crying Help:
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*kicks your fatigue for harassing you*
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YAY MY PREFERRED TROPE! :D
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Shen Wei's reaction here is PERFECT. There's only!! one!! bed!! \o/
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Still SO damn pleased at getting to write that line (finally). *confetti!*
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I find if my physical fatigue and/or mental fatigue get beyond a certain point, I lose the ability to emotionally regulate. I can get into a spiral of "oh god I'm going to be this fatigued forever!"
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I'm grateful I'm not subject to the spiral of "it will be like this forever" but I do suffer "I'm not sure how many times I can force myself to crawl out of this pit." And yeah, major problems with emotional regulation. I spent like nine months a couple years ago as a single, frayed nerve and it was Not Fun At All.
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Thanks. In 2010/2011 I got sick, and since then I've had fatigue bad enough that I need a power wheelchair to leave the house. It varies in severity from day to day, tho - on a good day I can do a tiny bit of housework or see live theatre; on a bad day, I can't even watch TV or read a book because I don't have the concentration.
And yeah, major problems with emotional regulation. I spent like nine months a couple years ago as a single, frayed nerve and it was Not Fun At All.
Ugh. :( Much sympathy.
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on a good day I can do a tiny bit of housework or see live theatre; on a bad day, I can't even watch TV or read a book because I don't have the concentration.
Oh yeah I feel that feel. Good times, good times.
It's such a ... idk, lucky(?) thing that I find online interactions minimally taxing. So even when I'm below empty (like you, when things are bad enough, I can't even watch TV), I can at least fuck around on the internet. I joke about living on the internet and how all my friends are there, but seriously.
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With the exception of the bathroom—he hoped that’s what was behind the one door, anyway
(Please tell me it is actually a bathroom.)
ONE BED.
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Yes, it is a bathroom! NO OUTHOUSES IN MY CANADIAN SHACK, THANKS.
but yes one bed one bed
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AMEN.
Yes, it is a bathroom! NO OUTHOUSES IN MY CANADIAN SHACK, THANKS.
I'm very glad that we're on the same page about this. INDOOR PLUMBING. YES.
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