It's thrown me off rather a lot, oddly. I told the boss (when I wrote her back after she replied to my "I'm gonna aim to come in later" email by asking whether I knew it's Saturday) that it's a luxury of vacations to lose track of what day it is, so I must be on a luxury vacation. But I have a headache, as the cold stuff seems to be congealing in my noggin, and maybe that's making me think more gloomily, but also I didn't get that spate of human contact at the office I thought was at least optionally ahead, to be followed by more human contact the next morning, and now have a whole weekend I'm suddenly in, continuing the solitude streak on top of the discombobulation. The dog needs to run, so I'm gonna take her somewhere to run, but I don't want to, and I don't think I can sleep any more, and, I dunno. Finding out it's not a workday after all is supposed to be a good thing, but it all depends.
I probably oughta stare at my phone a good bit less, too. I have the brightness turned down, but all that close focus--- seems not good for the brain pain. It's squint-pain-fully bright outside, but perhaps I can manage some distant-focus eyeball time. I don't want to, though. My head hurts. I can't even think right, except to call up the rock-solid certainty that my life doesn't amount to a thing, is meaningless, etc. And when the dog barks it pierces my skull.
Maybe we can do some long-leash while I'm blindfolded. I have a nice long soft white scarf Lorrel gave me after I'd admired hers. She said mine wasn't quite the same as hers and then she lost hers and then she told her sister about it and then her sister got her a new one and now it's exactly like mine.
Oh, my eyeballs.