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Y'all ever get the consuming urge to grab the surface cleaning wipes and just Go. To. Town. on PRECISELY ONE (1) kitchen cabinet door (because you just now became acutely aware of the grime, dust, and discolouration from airborne food vapours built up on its grooves and contours, in the months-to-years since you last cleaned higher than your countertop), then immediately collapse in exhaustion and leave your body for long enough that you forget whatever else you might have done with the day?

What doesn't always happen for me is the recognition of the pattern, but this time it did. So I've managed to measure my breathing (and write this down), I'm trying to soothe the more highly reactive feelings that are coming up - the shame over inactivity, over forgetfulness, heck even the shame of fatigue.

This time at least, I'm going to forgive my past exhaustion in order to avoid causing immediate present and future exhaustion, and repeating the problem. I doubt I'll always manage the balancing act, but I think I just dodged a burnout

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There's a field not far from me where I like to go and feed crows. Lots of them come to the area because it's good for grazing, and plenty of them seem to recognise me now. It's not uncommon for more than a hundred to clock me, fly down from the trees and surround me before I've thrown out more than a handful of peanuts.

Call me a mass murderer

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I live in a screaming neighbourhood. Most days, several times a day, I'll just hear distant screams.

No apparent gender or age bias. Pretty varied, honestly.

Not all of the screams are fearful or hostile, a lot are seemingly playful or even exuberant (there are three sports stadiums that people sometimes walk past my street to reach on foot, so they can get hammered without driving- good for them).

It's also an area where a decent number of folks start drinking before breakfast. Probably not so good for them, but what am I, a doctor?

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My phone just asked me if I want to allow Moon Alerts and, I have to say, I think I'm the one to blame for this set of circumstances

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Whenever older family members say things to me, like,

"You remind me so much of [deceased relative, before your time], they had a really dry sense of humour, to the point where it could be hard to tell when they were joking, and they didn't suffer fools"

I'm like, guess what? Great-grand-so-and-so was probably autistic. And so am I, and also please get assessed, you're the genetic link between me and them.

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Tedlassophobia: the fear of large, open football fields

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Equally tired and wired

No, wait... definitely more tired

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The spirit is willing but the nervous system is ON FIRE