I don’t think my deodorant works well.

About a week ago or so, I finished with a stick of Hey Human – the fancy one that comes in a cardboard tube.

Surprisingly, that one wasn’t bad or expensive.
I think it goes for some $8 at Target but was $3 at Ollie’s. It didn’t have much of a fragrance, but it is aluminum-free and whatever. Being a stick, it lasted a long time.

The new one is Lady Speedstick aluminum-free.
I think it was about $3 too, although the price tag has worn off. It’s kind of a hit/miss.

Sometimes, I think it’s working.
Sometimes, I don’t think so.

No one has said anything – thankfully.
But if I’m noticing the smell, everyone else might be too.

It’s a stick, so it’s probably not going to run out until January or something.

I need to make a decision – suck it up or trash it.
Or, I guess I could complain to Colgate (the parent company). I might get a coupon for a free stick. Or Colgate might trace the lot number I’d have to give them and say it expired.

I guess deodorant “expires,” right?

I don’t know. It’s a conundrum.

I scared myself the other day.
I overdid it a bit.

On Wednesday, since it was so nice outside, I spent quite a bit of time in the yard. I trimmed trees with a clipper, the bush thing out front, and pulled some weeds.

I went to the dump twice with huge yard bags stuffed to the brim with sticks, trash, and clippings.

My main thought was, since I’m not supposed to mow, I could at least do some maintenance so Jason doesn’t get whacked in the head when he’s out.

I like for the yard to look nice. That’s been a running theme with me for years – started when I was young, doubled down in Florida – continues here. Shaggy trees limbs leaning against the house, weeds growing around the house foundation, and unkempt bushes bother me.

So, while not perfect, it looks better.
It helps with validation.

It also really aggravated the back issues.
The wounds.

And, by Thursday night, they were open, painful, and bloody.

Probably the most running red they’ve been in this year-long odyssey – and that includes the scapel days.

The red and ooze went through the patches, soaked the back of my shirt, and started on the jean vest I wore. (Love that vest as it has internal pockets for gum and my wallet.)

Although I didn’t quite feel it – that came later – I could smell that sharp scent that comes with iron.

Any breeding-aged woman knows what that smells like.

Mixed with the non-working Lady Speedstick, I started to feel very conscious and uncomfortable.

I was more than happy to shower that evening – where the patches fell off. The water hit them.

The water hit the patches, and the red and ooze came out – and I watched as it went down the shower drain.

I think, at that point, I wasn’t me, so much. The brain and body separated. And I was certain that I would be hospitalized.

Shock?
I think I was in some sort of shock. I’ve been in and out of that a lot this week. Physical and mental.

For some reason, I fully believed that I would be placed somewhere for a couple of weeks with antibiotic drips.

That’s what healed me – or at least band-aided – me last time. I was sure of what was going to happen this time.

But it didn’t.
I’m still here. Fussing at Jason as I clumsily try to figure out the controls of PalWorld.

I’m still waiting on assignments to come in – it’s midterm week.

I’m already feeling a bit sad that a new week is going to start.

I shouldn’t.
But I do.

Anxiety. Uneasiness.
Self-distrust. But I need to plow ahead.

It’s just so tempting to just give in.
Go into a hospital – be a good little patient – and become a sheeple.

So. So. easy.