Fri Feb 12th, 2016
|08:49 pm - Litany|
Thank you, Friday, for being Friday.
Thank you, weekend, for being a long weekend.
Thank you, wine, for being potent.
Thank you, heating, for working efficiently.
Thank you, bath water, for being hot.
Thank you, bed, for being soft and ready at any time.
|Date:||February 13th, 2016 02:06 am (UTC)|| |
For each of those, there's a suitable Yiddish word, mechayeh: something that brings you back from the dead; a delight, a pleasure.
It's what I feel when I take of too-rigid or itchy or tight clothes and slip on an old, soft T-shirt and cotton knit pants: "Ahhh, mechayeh!"
My mother (may she rest in peace) used say it when I rubbed her shoulders.
Clearly a word I've been looking for all my life.
Though tonight the feeling is less 'back from the dead' than the reverse: 'come sweet oblivion, and swiftly'. Translation: the new bug screamed for *three hours solid* today: and as the new bug is fifteen months old, the screaming was not that of a desolate infant so much as a thwarted toddler, whose wish to be carried by one specific person all the time could not be gratified.
|Date:||February 13th, 2016 03:25 am (UTC)|| |
Amen x 6
Clearly a widespread malaise.
Very much so.
I slept the clock round when I got home from work last night. Not sure why, but I do feel better this morning.
And I just got up at 11:30 am after going to bed at 1. Take that, Universal Ill!!
And now a bright freezing morn, windchill -32. Oh polar vortixes, how I have not missed you.
ETA: vortices, even. The ex-classicist is abashed.
Edited at 2016-02-13 04:43 pm (UTC)