Wake up. Succumb to crippling dread caused by reading the news before I'm even out of bed: Trump looks to be on track to have the financial sector regulated by total banksters. It feels like I'll be able to deal with this better after having breakfast, I know my blood sugar is low and that makes everything terrible forever, especially since I skipped dinner last night, but I don't even have the energy to get out of bed, much less leave the house and go get breakfast, which I'm gonna have to do since all that's in the kitchen for breakfast is a mostly-empty container of elderly yogurt. Mostly because the kitchen's been unusable this week while maintenance ripped out part of the wall to replace insulation that'd been saturated with water by a pipe leak two floors above me.
I also think it's time to switch from sleeping under blankets to turning the heat up enough to sleep under a lot less. It's cold enough in my bedroom that the thought of exposing my naked skin to the air for even the five seconds it'll take to get into my bathrobe feels like an insurmountable task. Why the hell is an exothermic Southern girl like me living in Seattle anyway.