What a world. Meat still tastes strange. After seemingly endless days of slowly drowning in the slough and oozings of my wounded throat, meat tastes too much like dying.
My throat is only sore now. There is still cauterized tissue. I expected the new skin to be tender, like a scar, but that doesn't seem to be the case. Or maybe it is.
I was told I overthink things by my boss. It was good to hear.
Rage and rage and rage. I didn't sleep well last night. Felt too cold, felt too hot. Insomnia may be a symptom of weaning off the painkillers. Or maybe I've developed negative associations with lying in bed. Horrifying.
I got some curtain rods that look like industrial pipe. Very wise of them. Black pipe is cool for a lot of things, but the challenge for curtain rods would be changing out the curtains themselves.
The curtains will create two rooms for Kelly and Barbara's joint birthday party. The living room will be the Forest. Metaphorically. It must be crossed to get to the reward of festivities. I'm excited.
It's a couple more days until I can get back on the treadmill, so I imagine I'll have time to do a few more things too.