Ring-a-Ding-Ding! for Nyunyoya

I woke up at 6 in the morning and went on to have an interview at 9.30. It was wonderful to talk to a disabled researcher about their research on climate change and climate justice. We chatted a bit about our love for writing before we said goodbye.

In the middle of the day, my friend texted that they got hospitalized. Empathy intensified into an ache in my chest when I knew my friend was sick, alone, and tortured. Every time I hear a crip's story, I get submerged in the frustration that I can't make their pain bearable.

The neurologist commented on my long nails. Once while she examined me, once while I left the room. She was lucky I didn't come for an appointment in my daster. Self-maintenance costs a lot for crip jiwaraga. I wasn't in the mood for rationing.

I was wheeling myself to the bathroom to pee, and I realized my back felt okay-ish so I decided to shower. When I sat on my shower chair, I was overcame with surprise at the sight of a shiny, rust-free, sleek, brand new tap. The old tap had been leaking for a couple weeks. I thought about the water bills every time I saw the water dripping. Mom had to put a bucket under the tap so the water wouldn't have gone to waste. She poured the water in the bucket to the bak mandi whenever it was half full. I don't worry about the water bills anymore. Now I worry about my long nails that I've been putting off to trim.

The old tap was finally replaced after 11, 12 years since the bathroom was built. I remembered we replaced the bathroom door last year, or early this year, too. One day this won't be the same house. Theseus's ship kind of situation. I'm in bed. My skin is so dry, but I ran out of body lotion and I haven't received my allowance. I want to eat yamie. My back muscles are tense and pulsing. Wonder what I'll be doing with Juno later tonight.