Morning, y’all. Happy fucking Saturday. We’re looking at a sunny and dry day on our agenda, which would explain the early morning load of clothes in the washer. Chaucer is walking around the living room, probably looking for Brian. I’m sitting in my chair, trying to keep myself in a position that doesn’t hurt. Somehow, I strained something in my torso. I feel like there’s a length of barbed wire running from my sternum down and around my back. I have no idea how this happened at all, although I think it may have been when I did a side stretch the other day.
It happened. I’m officially old.
I handled most of what I wanted to deal with yesterday afternoon. Mom worked outside in her garden while I played Subnautica. Here’s some footage from my latest panic attack.
The barbed wire back pain made me doubt my intelligence for even considering some spin time, so I opted to be an adult and listen to my body. No spin time, more swim time. After putting about 25 hours into the game*, I’ve only just realized that some doors in the wrecks can open. As a consequence, I’m going back to the ones I’ve already visited to check their doors again. Also, I finally worked up the nerve to swim up to the crash zone. Give me another day or two and I might actually go inside.
* I’m slow, and I don’t give a shit. I’m not speedrunning this shit.
