Good news, I woke up this morning feeling much better. There’s always some residual discomfort after an obstruction but that’s minor. I’ve been able to eat normally today. Breakfast was scrappleeggsandcheese on pita. I put up a cold brew on Sunday when this was just starting. I kept it brewing until this morning. It tasted fine. I love cold brew. I just wish it were still hot out. It did save me the energy of making coffee in the morning and will for the next three or four days. Tonight, I’ll make dinner. I’m not sure what I’ll make. I wish I had some chicken breast or country style pork ribs. There might be some buried in my freezer, but I find that unlikely.
Katrina called me this morning just to tell me something funny that happened. I don’t get that kind of call often enough. There’s a joy to a friend calling because something happened, and they want to share it with you. It’s not a big deal but it’s a simple human pleasure. I feel the way that Michael did on The Good Place when he got junk mail and a rewards card, any rewards card. Demons don’t get to experience those things and doing so made him feel connected, made him feel human. I enjoy feeling human too. I hope you do. I was tempted to say that if you don’t you’re doing it wrong, but that’s not true, we all have different experiences, and god, even though he doesn’t exist, knows that I’ve gone though depression. I wasn’t doing something wrong, but I have learned ways to avoid it, and only one of which is taking Prozac. There’s a fine line. It’s not someone’s fault that they are unhappy, but there are things that people can do to make themselves happier.
My selfcare for today consists of enjoying not being sick. That might well entail eating large amounts of junk food. As I am as careful with my mental health as I am my physical, I’m OK with that. Not eating for two days probably led to me losing weight. I have a scale but I’m not sure how accurate it is. Next time I go to a doctor I should weigh myself right before I leave so I can compare. Until I had my eyes fixed I couldn’t read a bathroom scale so totally lost the habit of weighing myself. I should as it’s an indication of my general health. In terms of how I look it can’t make much of a difference. I’ve been the same pants size forever, a 36 waist. I’ve never been able to maintain a 34 for extended periods of time. It’s been more than 20 years since I needed a 38. Part of that is I spend a lot of time at 35 but they don’t make 35 waist pants. I don’t know how women can find any pants that fit. I need two numbers, a 36 waist and 30 inseam. If either is off the pants don’t fit. Women get one number, a number that isn’t easily derived from any one measurement.
That reminds of another gender-related quandary. A seamstress and a tailor essentially do the same thing. Why are the two words not related. Why isn’t a male seamstress a seamster? Why isn’t a female tailor a tailess or maybe tailoress? I just looked it up, tailoress means a woman tailor. Why have I never heard it used? Seamster is word too, it means a tailor. So, there were two words for the same profession, people that sew, but one got attached to men and the other to women. What got me thinking about this? Fiddler on the Roof. I never understood why the tailor Motel is poor and the butcher Lazar, rich. Tailoring is a skilled profession. Skilled professions usually pay well. It now dawned on me that’s it’s because tailors had to compete with women and women were always underpaid. Women couldn’t enter most professions which gave them little bargaining power. There was a much greater supply than demand. All traditional women’s professions were underpaid. Nurses are just now starting to get paid commensurate with their training and skills. Which way did the prejudice flow? Were women’s professions devalued because the practitioners were women, or did they become women’s professions because they were devalued? My money is on it going both ways.
What happened to my writing about religion? I got distracted. Let’s blame my lack of focus on residual discomfort. That’s a good way to avoid responsibility.
Wise Madness 