Alternation; and the cat

Triumph, and collapse. Alternating.

Triumph: I added a hard drive to my Mac tower. By myself. Without any assistance.

Technologically, it was entertaining... being a techno-dinosaur and remembering horrors of IRQ conflicts and way too many jumpers, something as simple as "Open the case, remove the slider that's there to hold the drive, screw it in using the screws provided that are placed perfectly to mate with the screw-holes on the drive, slide the slider in, close the case, you're done," was so... much... fun! Kids today, they don't know how good they got it. Really, they don't.

In order to get to that point, I had to unplug everything from the machine, slide the tower out of it's case (damn, that tower's a heavy sum-bitch), move the tower to a place where I could work on it (@#$#@-damn, that tower's a @#$#@$ heavy sum-bitch), lay it carefully on the ground, get down on the ground next to it, and open the case. The "get down on the ground" part was actually kinda painful. And difficult. Unhappy-making difficult.

Then, collapse: I had to rest. Bed rest, not just "sit in a comfy chair" rest. Get in the bed, close my eyes, and lie there for at least a half hour.

Then, I opened the case (a humorous aside: I used an Apple iPhone to look up how to open the Apple tower case, it's nice when the members of the family play nicely with each other), put in the disk, closed the case. Hooray! I win!

Oh yeah, need to get the case back in its place... But first, rest. Bed rest. A half hour.

Finally I wrestle the Mac back into its place. Finally get everything plugged in again. Power on, everything works. (A relief! A triumph!)

Then, I had to rest. Bed rest. For a half an hour.

Eventually, I decide that dammit, I want something different to eat. I head to a local eatery ("Slow fast food" is their motto), get a quarter chicken, and because I couldn't control myself, I broke my "no raw leafy greens" diet and had about four forkfuls of red-cabbage slaw. Damn, that was satisfying.

Then, again, collapse: I had to rest. Bed rest. Lie down, close my eyes, for at least a half hour.

To put this in perspective, I've wanted to put this disk into my machine for well over a week. But haven't had the energy to do it. I've got some other stuff I want to do, right here in the house, but don't know that I'll have the energy to do it. The local hardware store is having a "no sales tax" weekend, there's something that needs buying for the house--and has needed buying for months!-- but I don't know that I'll have the energy to walker-walk around the store. Much less to simply get out of the house.

Having NO energy really sucks. Everything takes so @#$#@$ing much energy to accomplish anything... I can't complete things; hell, I can barely even start them. No matter what I do, what I try to do, I'm interrupted, either by my always-full-of-surprises bladder, or the need to lie down and close my eyes. Or both. Or the bladder several times, and then back to bed. (And then sometimes the bladder again. Well, at least at home, the bed's not that far from the bathroom.)

The cat, however, is happy. She gets fed when she wants it, she gets rubbed when she wants it. Sometimes, all she wants is to lie next to me; sometimes she wants to lie on top of my arm.

So... all this fatigue, the depression, the bathroom trips, is this all just The Universe telling me to... pay attention to the cat? Not just to "feed and rub" her, obviously, but to learn from her?

A very interesting gift... no? (Or should I say, "Meow?")