Do you have one of those wheelie bins for trash, composting or recycling that says on the inside of the lid, "Lid must be closed when moving"? I do, and I found out what happens if you don't close the lid, even if you're just trying to push the bin a few feet because you're cleaning out the garage gutters and you want to be able to drop the sludge directly into the compost collection bin when you're up on a stepladder ladder.

It attacked me. I survived, but I swear there are bite marks on my wrist. Wheelie bin bites! Now I know how Mickey felt in the first Ninth Doctor episode.

Why have I still not internalized the "follow instructions" message the nuns tried so hard to drum into my then-youthful skull?

I keep setting aside time to read my FL but my eyes get tired so quickly I have to take a break, and I'm not reading fic or books at all. I may have to break down and get new glasses before the end of the year even though I already ran through the money set aside for that.

I want to get work done, but can't sit still and my concentration is shot. I've tried exercising, but that just makes me more anxious, although not about anything in particular. My stomach keeps telling me I'm hungry even though I've fed it twice what I usually eat by this time of day in an effort to shut it up. I'm not sad or angry, but it would be hard to describe what I feel as happy either. I feel like I'm going to jump out of my skin.

I assume this is menopause playing tricks again.