Hello From Periodicals

I have a joke that I use when things are piling up on me: I have so many issues that I could run a periodicals library. I feel like using it again. There's woes looming over me making me feel like a tiny little dinosaur watching the KT meteor getting closer and closer. Just... waiting for everything to blow me away.

Physically, there is some hope. The physio is working on my bum heel, which means that the opposite complaining knee may soon have less reason to complain. I hope.

Meanwhile, I've been on my phone so much that I've hurt my left thumb about it. The good news there is that a combination of Voltaren Emulgel, a "finger cot", and just staying the frik off my phone are working to get the ache to go away.

There's little to be done about my wrist pains until I no longer need my cane to get about. Alas.

Meanwhile, I need new glasses (expensive), my exercise shoes are falling apart (expensive as well), and I really should subscribe to my anxiety meds (not that expensive, honestly)... but compared to all the other nonsense that costs money, there's little left over for any of that.

Including: fixing the house's sullage system and the AC. Four figures. Yeeps. I don't have four figures. We need to do it, but... Ow.

I know we're going to manage, somehow. It all ends up... do-able. With a little jiggery-pokery and some significant wrangling. And probably costing us a few "someday" hopes. Which I inevitably feel guilty about.

I'm trying not to spiral about that. It's difficult. Sometimes it feels like I'm the one holding everyone -including myself- away from our fondest hopes and dreams. And then Beloved slaps me in the face with the truth and I have to get over myself.

...I wonder if I can speedrun that?