I haven't left my house for anything other than work, groceries, and a couple appointments yet this summer. Every time I think about that fact, it feels like I'm putting my hand on the door to a room from which I've heard an ominous thud. I feel guilty, because I haven't been paying my friends the attention they deserve and because I need a social life and staying cloistered in my room constitutes practicing poor self care.
I've tried reaching out to people a few times, but it keeps happening to be a bad time. I'm at a point where things going a little bit wrong in the effort to leave the house takes all the wind out of me and ends that train of effort.
As I write this blog post, my niece and nephew are screaming outside. Not for any particular reason. They just scream sometimes.
I desperately want magical solutions to my mundane problems. Stuff like teleportation powers and a perfectly nourishing and hydrating food substitute.