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Dinner has been served
Nov. 24th, 2024 12:04 amSwitching pharmacies is going all right so far. Belovedest advises me that you've got to go the long way around to reach the pharmacy now at the old place, as they've installed what they briefly call "Hostile Architecture" (some kind of gate in this case) between the front door and the pharmacy. Tl;dr: don't go to this store if you have any kind of mobility situation that requires that you limit walking/rolling/whatever. Or if you do, stream it and maybe people will be un-jaded enough to drum up some outrage.
I spent part of my therapy session yesterday cutting my anxiety meds in half. I'm going from 10mg twice daily to 15mg twice daily, therefore I can still use my current supply at the new dosage.
I made curry last night (golden curry with cauliflower, chicken, and potato) and chicken soup tonight. Both with canned chicken and dried onion, but in the case of the soup there was a very forlorn packet of French Onion Soup mix clattering around in the kitchen. Chicken soup is distinct from "None Soup" in that there are things in the soup -- chicken, flavor, vegetables, and salt. (None Soup just has flavor and salt. Sometimes protein in the form of easily mixed powder.) It's a Choose Your Own Carbohydrate adventure, one that we invented so that I could have crusty bread with my soup without blowing my intended tally.
We are on Penric's Demon in our grocery shopping and car trip book club.
This evening after I woke up I started sorting through the miscellaneous stuff around my desk. (Belovedest had conveniently sorted some common areas and their part of the living room.) And had to lie down several hours in (and after starting the soup), as my circulatory system had decided that now was the time to do double-time for no good reason. So I toddled off and played gems for long enough to get my heart rate right, and then there were Soup Happenings and I popped back out.
Turns out that empty candy boxes are the right shape for sticker sheets and old quarter-sheet bullet journal adjacent items.
I did a lot of folding reusable plastic bags into the tucked triangular shapes that I remember from elementary school as "football" -- you tuck a piece of paper into that shape, and then flick it at someone else, who has ideally signed up for the football experience and will be holding their hands in the shape of goalposts. Points for, variously, making the goal according to the posts; or, making a goal on your companion's face.
Yellface has made her last litterbox trip for the evening, it looks like, and will have gone off to bed to guard Belovedest from all threat to their knees until she thinks it's breakfast time.
I spent part of my therapy session yesterday cutting my anxiety meds in half. I'm going from 10mg twice daily to 15mg twice daily, therefore I can still use my current supply at the new dosage.
I made curry last night (golden curry with cauliflower, chicken, and potato) and chicken soup tonight. Both with canned chicken and dried onion, but in the case of the soup there was a very forlorn packet of French Onion Soup mix clattering around in the kitchen. Chicken soup is distinct from "None Soup" in that there are things in the soup -- chicken, flavor, vegetables, and salt. (None Soup just has flavor and salt. Sometimes protein in the form of easily mixed powder.) It's a Choose Your Own Carbohydrate adventure, one that we invented so that I could have crusty bread with my soup without blowing my intended tally.
We are on Penric's Demon in our grocery shopping and car trip book club.
This evening after I woke up I started sorting through the miscellaneous stuff around my desk. (Belovedest had conveniently sorted some common areas and their part of the living room.) And had to lie down several hours in (and after starting the soup), as my circulatory system had decided that now was the time to do double-time for no good reason. So I toddled off and played gems for long enough to get my heart rate right, and then there were Soup Happenings and I popped back out.
Turns out that empty candy boxes are the right shape for sticker sheets and old quarter-sheet bullet journal adjacent items.
I did a lot of folding reusable plastic bags into the tucked triangular shapes that I remember from elementary school as "football" -- you tuck a piece of paper into that shape, and then flick it at someone else, who has ideally signed up for the football experience and will be holding their hands in the shape of goalposts. Points for, variously, making the goal according to the posts; or, making a goal on your companion's face.
Yellface has made her last litterbox trip for the evening, it looks like, and will have gone off to bed to guard Belovedest from all threat to their knees until she thinks it's breakfast time.
