2015.01.28

The night goes fairly well. Rough start - MW has myriad little pains and worries that keep her up to around midnight, but eventually she falls and stays asleep. No four a.m. outburst, either. Overall a calm night.

You almost stop thinking about HD.

Then, while getting ready for work, she comes to you in the kitchen wearing her flannel pajamas buttoned all wrong, her hair flying away like she's in a wind tunnel, and that off-kilter, twisted rictus on her worried face so common to Huntington's Disease.

It is frightening to behold. The face, the expression, the way her body seems to move even while she's standing still; overall it has the effect of making her look inhuman. Slightly demonic.

She's concerned about her vitamins. Has she already taken them? Did I see her take them?

No. I didn't. Once again I turn away, no help whatsoever.

*** 

On the other hand, the gin worked great! After MW went down, I slept like a babe and didn't feel sick this morning. Only had one dream and it wasn't too weird: I was watching an old James Garner movie, circa 1960s, where he was a private eye investigating a house full of Ann Margret-esque lesbians. Yessir. I'll take that all night long.

*** 

A good night's sleep, no hangover, sun above and the temps crowding 80.... Time to shake off this funk. Oh sure of course I know I'm still nothing more than an HD vulture biding time, but at least I should be able to enjoy an afternoon walk now and again. Also, I've come to realize that part of the reason I've been so pissy (you know, aside from the obvious) is that I had to post an Amazon book review for a friend who just had another one published.

And that made me realize how much I miss writing.

What, this? This blog isn't writing. This is screaming at the void. Fuck you, void. I know I'm all alone, you don't have to be so smug about it.