My heart-rate after less sleep is regularly noticeably higher. Today after a few minutes of gentle walking (after sitting down for a decent while) it was at 140ish. I have this memory of a documentary that I saw in primary school - one of the few memories I have from around that time that’s still episodic: as in it’s a memory of an experience rather than a fact (like a picture of something compared to a description of it). It was about the elephant shrew, I remember a chunk of it, and as the memory gets fuzzy it’s this questionable (both in original accuracy and accuracy of recall) etymology of the elephant shrew’s name. It was that they only live for a few years, but their heart beats the same number of times an elephant’s heart would beat (due to them running so fast all the time). I have this vague concept that I’m going to live until my first major organ stops working, and that how that’s determined is some original lifetime and how it works, nothing else. If you’ve ever heard me say I want everything to fail at once this is what I mean. A normal heart rate for someone in the situation I was in is probably like 70-100, max, and I’ve convinced myself over years that there’s a resulting surplus of years left in my other organs. I think it’s maybe a little wishful thinking. I can’t imagine how I could possibly handle going through old-age while doing everything I need to keep me afloat. I think mostly what to take away from this is I’m a bit of a mess. I mean I’ve convinced myself I ought to get my bargain’s worth in terms of abusing my organs, really that I need to get parts of me to die quicker, based off a hazy memory of learning something I’m pretty sure isn’t true. How did I happen?
Work not responding to five texts since Monday about whether or not I can get tomorrow off or even for the shift to start later hahaha okay
Have some kind of vague recollection of having negative associations with someone whose smell was mostly of cigarette smoke, but I don’t remember who or when. I like everyone I know properly that smells like that, so it feels really strange.
I like arriving for things just in time after running to them because then it looks like I had a reason for wanting to run.
But yeah, strong urge to just lie down and be unconscious for a few days.
I just remembered that time when I was in primary school and found out what emotional manipulation was. An argument happened at home and I raised it while crying. Someone, I don’t remember who, responded with this two or three sentence argument about crying being emotional manipulation and I blinked back the tears and stopped crying in front of people.