dry skin

I've watched the back of my left hand molt this week. Often, you can tell the state of my general well-being by how often I moisturize. Sometimes it's just not worth it.

The good things in my life this week have been the orchestra rehearsal last evening and e-books. I have been whipping through so many good bad books lately. They suck. I love them. I can't put them down. Latest one was Before Ever After. I think I like that it doesn't matter where I put my brain when I read them. I sneak-read an hour of that one during a meeting at work this week.

I was awake for a long time in the middle of the night last night terrified that this state I find myself in is permanent. I don't think I'd be good with permanently feeling this way. But then I also know that I'm forgetful and malleable and I wonder if maybe if these nasty, icky physical sensations keep up for more and more months and years, I'd forget all about the way 'normal' used to feel. Meh, what was energy? What was stability? What was lightness and clear air? Overrated. I'm still alive. (I don't believe this, but I'm not giving up) (and I like lotion too much)