"Living life as an artist is a practice. You are either engaging in the practice or you’re not. It makes no sense to say you’re not good at it. It’s like saying, ‘I’m not good at being a monk’. You are either living as a monk or you’re not. We tend to think of the artist’s work as the output. The real work of the artist is a way of being in the world”.
~Rick Rubin
So about the gig, I work with two - DoorDash and Instacart. For the past couple of weeks I have worked more with the latter because the former is getting lame with base pay push.
Not to say Instacart is paying much better than DoorDash -- if anything, they seem to be competing for the race to the bottom.
Today, for example, was a 5-delivery challenge for $64...basically guaranteeing a whopping $64 for five deliveries, when there was a time not so long ago, that would have been payment for one delivery...or a double with low mileage if the orders were small.
I took up the challenge, completed five orders, got the barest thread close to said $64, and ended the day with about $90 for the "bonus" of completion. Which I find odd.
Another thing I find odd is that there is a $9.95 "delivery fee" for each and every order, and yet not a dime of that goes to the person shopping and delivering the order. So I asked Instacart about that, and was told that we (shopper/delivery folk) earn a batch pay. Yes, I know this, and that batch pay that used to be the amount of the challenge is as low as Instacart can get away with. So I asked about that and was told that the batch pay is determined based on the time and effort a batch might take.
I screenshot the exchange, because while I don't fault the person attempting to answer my questions, they are seemingly oblivious to the fact that they're also on the receiving end of Instacart's bullshit.
See, the time and effort involved in just one order I took today belies the extent to which Instacart pays for those things. At first blush, a single order (meaning just one customer in my cart instead of two or three, which is also typical) with 54 items (but 74 units) had an initial base batch pay of $7, plus $1 for heavy, a $6 tip and a drive of roughly 3 miles from the store seems like it should be reasonable.
Except, in this example, there were two 12-pks of selzer water, two 2-liter bottles of flavored seltzer water, two gallons of spring water, one 2.5-gallon jug (with a spout) of drinking water, five 1-liter bottles of club soda, six cans of sardines, four cans of evaporated milk, plus ALL produce items were organic with specific instructions on appearance/feel expectations, plus ALL frozen food items were organic, AND a trip to the complete opposite end of the supercenter to go into the garden area to get extremely specific fertilizer/food spikes for hanging plants...on top of all the various and sundry miscellany ordered.
In total, after $21.95 in store savings, the total spent on this cart came to $290.26.
But wait...it gets better.
All these groceries, except for the different waters, required a dozen paper bags...and then, multiple trips carrying these bags and bottles and cans up to a 3rd story apartment. Nope, no elevator for this. I have a dolly, but it wouldn't accommodate this much stuff without the same number of trips (seven). AND SHE WAS HOME.
I knocked on the door, but she didn't initially answer, until she thought I was finished and shot out a quiet "thank you" while I was descending the stairs. I shouted up that I wasn't finished bringing stuff up...and she, in her shy mask and gloves appeared quite surprised at the sheer number of bags I brought up.
I asked her if she was aware that the $9.95 delivery fee doesn't go to the deliverer, and that heavy pay for her order was a single dollar (making the batch pay $8)...and that her tip, while appreciated, probably wasn't what she thought it was. She said that after the $9.95 delivery fee, which she incorrectly assumed went to the person/people delivering), it just got "really expensive."
She commented on how nice it must be to be so healthy as to be able to do this work. I remarked that I have a bad back, bad knees, and emphysema...so I don't know how healthy that makes me, but that receiving $14 for two hours of my day, gas, and multiple climbs up to a 3rd floor at the very least saves me the cost of a gym membership. I think she expected because of her health I would somehow be more forgiving -- but that isn't my job.
My job is independent contracting gig work...in this case, Instacart. I don't mind shopping and delivering, and today my job was to educate a customer who thought a $6 tip somehow was tacked on to a $9.95 delivery fee. She asked what a good tip would be, and I told her I wasn't asking for a larger tip...just making her aware of the reality for people delivering to her door. She can do with that what she will...though if I deliver an order like this to her door again, she'll get removed from my rotation, regardless of how nice she is. And she is.
My venom is for Instacart, that has dropped its batch pay to damn near slave wages and expects shoppers to just be okay with it because they've estimated our efforts...lol...fairly.
 |
| Jeff Leedy's "I Go Where Others Fear to Tread," 1999 |
Just the one flaw for now.
I am working to fix how much I actively care about others who do not reciprocate.
I think we all know the dynamic to which I'm referring, and I suspect most would agree that extending care and concern to people who don't care back equally wears on the soul.
So I'm done. I have a couple of things left to clean up in this area, but I'm otherwise just done with lack of reciprocity from others.
I'm too tired to nourish others at the expense of my own heart.
Speaking of things I can't get around: I'm officially toothless.
Not in the sense of ineffectual (though perhaps that, too); rather, I have no teeth in my face. I have no "luxury bones" between my lips and throat. What occurred right after my 50th birthday was inevitable. We knew it was coming, and I was living in daily pain in an effort to avoid this current situation that was ultimately just...inevitable.
I think my grandmother made it to her 70s or so. I think Mom was in her mid-60s when she lost her last tooth (and finally got her dentures).
I'm just over 50 years old and am toothless. More or less, I guess. I'm grateful for the paltry coverage I have, because dental insurance sucks bad generally, any little bit is worth having. I know people with far worse coverage than I have. I also know better, so...fair to middlin'.
In this space between fair and middlin', I haven't had too many complaints. So long as it's been fair and middlin'. I've dealt with a full upper plate and a partial lower for a few years. This is not new territory we're sitting in...just which yard, I suppose.
I guess the part where I've been dealt other than fair or middlin' is where I have taken issue. Like when pricing is unscrupulous and beyond unreasonable. As happened with my dentist. Well, now former dentist would be applicable, since I no longer have teeth requiring dental oversight, care, cleaning, management, but not adequate insurance coverage for anything remotely reasonable.
A few months ago, knowing that my last remaining lower teeth were going to need to be extracted, and since things had gone well with my bone density study, I was ready to start pursing information-seeking about the lower half of my mouth. Especially since pain was increasing with the partial (because the teeth were "floating"). I got the x-ray, and an appointment for a consultation with the traveling specialist to my dentist's office.
My dentist office has a traveling specialist who comes through every few weeks for things like extractions and implants and such. I won't say how many times I heard the phrase "we don't nickel and dime" with relation to the shiny new x-ray machine...and it was no wonder. Their refusal to nickel and dime wasn't going to reduce an (incomplete and incorrect) estimate that low-balled estimated charges at roughly $31,000.00 for the services I needed. I found that rate unconscionable, but didn't say as much given I noticed the estimate was incomplete, and was missing obvious services, so the estimate would very likely breach $35,000 most likely.
These are services I would need regardless where I got them, or how much they ultimately cost. The question we were working with was how were we going to pay for them, since they were inevitable, regardless.
So I connected with Affordable Dentures and their estimate was less than half of what my dentist provided. In the end, it was less than half, but still less, and care will be ongoing with their clinic into the future. Which makes sense. I no longer need a dentist, but require care for my appliances. I still have a lot of questions, but next week when I cancel my cleaning, that conversation should be interesting.
So I'm toothless and I'm expecting a call this week from my (now former) dentist to confirm an appointment that I will need to cancel and explain why. Mainly, I see no need to explain anything other than I'm toothless and that should be that. We shall see.
My therapist is firm that my current focus needs to self-care. Period. Not if I feel like it, not if it happens to be convenient. Now AND later, so long as I am living with this unimaginable pain. I will say that the pain has certainly improved, but it doesn't surprise me that no questions were asked when I requested a refill on the Norco. And I hate pain meds...truly.
Meanwhile, here was my attempt at Leedy's artwork. Later I'll try with color. After the pain is completely gone, though. That may be a few months.
 | ||||
| My Artempt at the Leedy |
p/l/s
~dw
 |
Calibrachoa |
What is relevant is that I have three hybrid types (the Violet Star, the Kona Midnight Blur, and the Aloha Nani Calibash) of these very pretty vining flowers that are closely related to petunias. Looking at them, I can see it, in the petals and leaves, but also different. Mix in hybrids and wheeeee!
 |
| This
is a 2019 printing of an 1835 English translation of the original 1830
French; the original French doesn't get much press in the searches. The
version I have is from 8 years before the illustrated version of this
book came out (though there are a few sketches). |
 |
| This
is a 2020 printing of flowers from across the pond from the older
version, with very lovely artistry and not much in the way of
explanation for the definitions and where they diverge from the
original. Or, in my case... |
So when looking at something "meaningful" in the pages of old and new floriography, one expects to find a bit more creativity. In the old and new books, there's a bit of difference...which might ought to be expected.
For petunias, the text provides meanings of anger and resentment. The explanation of origin provides: "Little is recorded about the origin of the meaning. The petunia is sensitive and easily damaged--perhaps like a person who is filled with anger or resentment."
The book further suggests pairing petunia with "wormwood to indicate displeasure at an outcome" or "rosemary to show you will not forget someone's wrongdoing."
Sounds a lot to me like Aunt Petunia and a few peppered tidbits from Harry Potter.
That
said, not so much the calibrachoas, in the sense of "sensitivity." I mean sure, the petals are
delicate looking, but they're hardy flowers. So if I had to give them a
nosegay meaning, they'd have to be the inverse of the above meanings.
Like...
Resilient, calm, empathic, forward-facing.
 |
Pansies |
Suggests pairing
with ...oh, I dunno...the same number of pansies. The text notes Shakespearean recognition of the French, and all the pennies for thoughts we can spend. One need not look further than Spanish to recognize thoughts in pansies - if looking to pair flowers, that is. Because being overly pensive about floriography spoils the fun.
Calibrachoas & Pansies
Thoughts about resilience, calm, empathy, and focus on our shared future.
~*~
Cheers!
~dw
Silliness for those who appreciate 1972
In a funny and stupid life twist, I learned that "the next time you can reuse 1972 calendar will be in 2028. Both calendars will be exactly the same," according to BirthdayAnswers on every date listed for 1972. Wikipedia might've been better...but Nixon was President and we were still entrenched with VietNam, so not very silly, definitely not very fun. Probably any other year I wouldn't care, but this year I do.
So...BirthdayAnswers it is.
It never once occurred to me that calendars could be reused, or that an older calendar could (would?) be bought. ...like after the year is past. Is that even a thing anywhere?
I
wondered, and you might be, too...and really, why wouldn't you
wonder...where would one find a new 1972 calendar? Or at the least,
gently used?
On that day at least, that day that I wondered, the weirdly correct answer was Etsy.
Just the one, so my lucky day.
(Thanks to whoever you are in Crystal City, Virginia for holding onto this wallet-sized 1972 gently used [it isn't new, it's a half-century old] right when I wanted to buy one...who says fate doesn't exist? *blows kisses in the general direction of...oh, approximately east*)
 |
| A 1972 Santa Fe Calendar, pocket-sized 2" noted at top. |
 | ||
| The reverse side of the 1972 calendar. I had to look at an enlarged version to see the name of E Martin Hennings. |
I wanted the calendar for my own curiosity, but the art on the reverse made the little card all the more interesting.
To draw a quick comparison, I pulled up a 2028 calendar, because I've got to at least have a look at it, right? Right, of course.
I could have and almost did make it EXTRA large so that Vector Stock would know that their watermark is clearly visible from the moon, but I refrained.
Two things in common between 1972 and 2028 make them sort of unique:
**New Year's Day falls on a Saturday
**Leap Year
Between New Year falling on a Saturday AND a Leap Year - make 1972 and 2028 unique to each other, and trying to figure out the why of it is a headache, so I'd rather sit back and appreciate the fact that...
**1972 and 2028 do mirror each other, and I could've trusted the internet, but where's the fun in that?
**I have a really cool little artifact from a no-longer-existent transportation company with really interesting art on the reverse side that I didn't know existed before today...and I rather love finding new (to me) art, even if the artist is dead, and especially art from the Southwest. So I will be looking further into this dead artist.
[watch this space]
p/l/s
 |
/ National Archives, Records of the Extension Service |
Anyway...
...a SAHM would be salaried today, if she were paid for all that she does...roughly $184K per year.
I wonder about this from time to time for various reasons, and I just chuckle to myself about it. Mostly.
Recently, though, I got to thinking more deeply about something else that is connected with this topic, and a couple of memories were jogged.
I had a relative who graduated from a women's college in the 1950s with a degree in Home Economics. For some reason, I never stopped and actually thought about that. It never occurred to me that how I understood "home economics" (in my own experience in the 1980s, middle school) had exactly nothing to do with her experience with the subject- academically, professionally, or personally.
By the time I was in junior high, Home Ec was viewed by me and many of my peers as largely outdated with ideas that were cute if you liked Holly Hobby, but otherwise part of a bygone era that played no direct role in our lives.
 |
| The Betty Crocker Kitchens 1940 (Retrieved from Finding Betty Crocker) |
Some of us would learn faster than others just how important Home Economics actually is out here in the so-called real world. Sadly, I haven't seen a Home Economics class offered for any of my own kids, two of whom are adults now.
But even having (gratefully) learned the fundamentals from a parent of an earlier era than my mom, I had the very basics to start with -- which mattered because I was on my own at 17. Later, I would live for a spell with my grandmother (who was a few years older than my dad), and she added a few interesting elements of home economics I'd never learned in any classroom. All of which I've tried passing on to all of my kids.
Over the years, I developed connections with people related by way of my own family or by marriage -- some relations more distant than others, and I would learn about family histories that were interesting in their own right.
Such as a relative having a college degree from a women's college in mid-20th century America, mid-1950s no less, post-WWII era with a degree in Home Economics.
By the time it occurred to me to ask about it, I realized, she was long since dead. I'm grateful for every connection offered, because home economics in practice is really a set of very important human adult survival skills.
Gratitude, though, no matter how sincerely felt, doesn't satisfy the curiosity about what all would even be in a Home Economics academic program in the 1950s in the United States.
Digging around, I came across an interesting essay from 2010, KU ScholarWorks, by Julia Barnard - Home Economics and “Housewifery” in 1950s America - and I just sort of sat in wonder. The essay is written around and focused on a Centron film about "Why Study Home Economics" from 1955 in Lawrence, Kansas. The essay is not long, definitely worth the read in its entirety.
These bits stood out to me:
"...This curriculum reflects the larger socio-cultural context in which Home Economics, a unique subject taught almost exclusively to female students was situated in the 1950s. [...] Home Economics classrooms became an important site of much of the explicit and implicit advertising that contributed to the way American eating habits and the structure of the food industry changed in the 1950s. These classrooms were important in changing and shaping the minds of young American women. They combine ideas about gender roles with technical points about food preparation and marketers’ interests in affirming a society increasingly influenced by agents of mass consumption.
Not only were corporate interests being served by the particular contents of the Home Economics curricula, but cultural values both old and new were also an element in the new, post-war Home Economics setting, serving as a sort of hidden element of the curriculum in these classrooms...
[...]
...Terms like “Domestic Science” and “Home Economics” helped to frame the study of cooking and buying as an academic discipline, full of skills worth learning and studying. This series of conferences, and later the entire discipline of Home Economics, was founded on the idea that consumer culture was something one could be educated in. Home Economics was the study of consumption: how to buy, where to buy, what to buy, and also what to eat, where to eat, when to eat, and who to eat with..."
...and not paid for.
Evidently, despite its overwhelming importance, seemingly, to society, such that it was written into our entire culture, our upbringings, our educations -- it was not deemed important or relevant enough to be paid for.
For the woman of that era, she could be educated, with a degree in something she was told she had to know...placed uniquely as one of the few science degrees allowed to women at the time...
...but not get paid for the work her conferred degree intended.
I'm not shocked by this anymore. I knew about this from other books that cover what part of the Women's Liberation Movement of the 1960s focused on, and that was the fact they thought their own moms should be paid for what they do. It was part of some of my previous research, while still fairly brand-new to anything involving stay-home parenting, since the entirety of my career had previously been outside the home.
I just hadn't read about specific curricula or syllabi for a Home Economics degree and I was curious.
 |
/ U.S. National Archives, Records of the Office of Government Reports |
During the 1950s (when my mother was a toddler and my grandmother was younger than I am now), much of the focus was a blend of post-Depression and recent ending of WWII. The hardships of post WWI and the Depression weren't ancient history. WWII was still very fresh. There were a lot of different social upheavals brewing on the horizon.
Some women resented returning home from work; others preferred staying home. Both were expected to do the "women's work" regardless...and neither was paid.
The root traces back to earlier than my own research, insofar as monetary value matching everything we do.
My degrees aren't in Home Ec, though sometimes I wonder if they shouldn't have been. I actually rather enjoy the reality of living home economics in practice. I know that, because of my degrees, I am literally worth more dead than alive, but because of a degree I don't have, I should have a few decades of the SAHM salary saved up to pay that off nicely and then some.
So back to that Motherly article. In that short article is a link that takes the reader to Salary with a "What is a Mom's Work Worth?" quizlet thing. I played along.
My salary range is between $231,769 and $284,463, based on criteria listed and my zip code...median to high. I'd probably be slightly on the higher end of some of the criteria, fairly...but that was admittedly gratifying. Especially since I carry skills over a century old that it seems nobody even knows how to do anymore, so I guess either those are priceless...maybe that qualifies (along with those degrees that sometimes have me doubt my value as a human being) for the national high of $330,269.
Heh.
See? That's why I usually just chuckle to myself about it.
Mostly.
"...MdDS is rarely recognized immediately and is often misdiagnosed as Ménière’s disease, vestibular migraine, motion sickness, or even as a form of psychosomatic illness.
MdDS is literally translated as the “sickness of disembarkment.” It is a disorder of rocking vertigo and imbalance that starts after a period of motion exposure, such as going on a cruise, flying, or even a long car ride. Unlike short-lived land-sickness, MdDS can persist for months or years."
~*~
At the end of August I traveled to Georgia. Upon returning I couldn't shake the feeling of still being in motion.
My flights coming home weren't particularly turbulent. I have traveled extensively since infancy, and have experienced my fair share of turbulence; I've criss-crossed the country in old pick-up trucks, responsimobile-type family vehicles of myriad variety, by Greyhound, and etc. I am familiar with that weird feeling of being in motion that goes away after a few hours.
This wasn't that.
I couldn't shake the feeling for more than a week. It was really bizarre.
I did a little googling and came across this condition of "land sickness" - which I read to be more or less what we landlubbers experience if we get on a boat. But I don't turn green on a boat, and I haven't ever experienced motion sickness that I can recall. Also, the focus was on boats, and I hadn't traveled by boat, so I set it aside. I saw MdDS mentioned, but didn't give that much thought because it was noted as extremely rare so it very likely wouldn't apply to me. I noted a few peculiar details, and later mentioned it to my husband in passing. We agreed it was interesting.
Then the symptoms dissipated and I forgot about it. Happily.
Last Thursday, my family embarked on a fall break adventure, a 4-day/3-night/1,293-mile circular road trip around the other side or Oregon. We went to Joseph, Hell's Canyon Overlook, Hines, the "scenic route" to Klamath Falls, to Crater Lake (and all the way around Crater Lake), to ...eventually... I-5 and back home. That's the highlights...but I'm not sharing it to brag. It was incredibly beautiful, fun, all that...but those areas of Oregon are very, very rural. The roads aren't always the smoothest.
Having grown up where I did, and having grown up as "junior navigator" through countless road trips (childhood to present), I'm used to mountains and trees. Specifically pine trees. Those great huge ones that reach up to kiss clouds. Most folks I knew growing up remember those mountains even if they never returned to that place.
Eastern and southeastern Oregon is incredibly beautiful. High desert with evolving landscape as you go through it, with oases of ranch land that offer green relief to the browns and yellows...and in the near and middle distance, always, the foothills and mountains. And their trees. Those pine trees that are for me reminiscent of my hometown hills.
Except...I have this weird problem with those trees. The tall pine ones.
This problem started something like 20ish years ago. I can't remember exactly. It only happens if I'm in a car in motion and not driving. I can drive in the same places and conditions and am perfectly fine. But if I am in the passenger seat or in the back seat, going through mountains covered in pines...in places like Colorado, Arizona, Oregon, Washington, etc...I cannot look off to the distance or upward (though I can look at trees at eye level near me and sometimes looking downward) without experiencing something akin-to-but-not-exactly-like vertigo.
This isn't any secret to anyone in my immediate family, since we've all been on road trips together for decades. It's a known thing, and I just take it into account when we're traveling through that type of terrain to put down the sun visor as a sort of visual shield. I try focusing on conversation or things that we're passing near by. I am unsure if this weird quirk of mine has ever come up in conversation with friends or other family. I can't remember.
I can remember that I did not always experience this. I traced back in my memory to the first time I remember experiencing it, and it was about 2003 or so. I might be off, but I remember it was back when I lived in Washington state, and I was frequently on the road, and I noticed something that I remember "seeing" as a kid. When I look at pine tree-covered mountains, I know that the trees are straight up toward the sun, but I see them at odd angles, and not all going the same angle. If I've commented to what I see, nobody has "gotten" what I meant.
And I'd never been particularly bothered by the visual distortion in and of itself ...until the first time I thought I was about to throw up and had to pull to the side of the road.
If I am standing still, the trees don't bother me. If we're driving slowly (like through a National Park or preserve), no big deal. It's strictly while in motion but not driving (and that makes sense because focus is on the road while driving, generally).
I wouldn't even bother sharing the timing of this weird quirk that began a couple of decades ago, except for how that timing occurs with something else that happened at about the same time, and why that becomes important in light of another peculiar detail about MdDS that I returned to after piecing these things together.
Another tiny tidbit, so to answer before the question is asked, yes...I have history with migraine. Several people on my maternal side deal with seasonal migraine. Mine was menstrual, but only until I started hormonal birth control, which brought the attacks under control. I did not experience menstrual onset attack after having my first child, though I still occasionally experience a kind of visual "halo effect" attack. I have another chronic condition that is seasonally-affected, so I find the seasonal elements interesting, in conjunction with the hormonal effect.
And honestly, I wouldn't share that tiny tidbit here at all were it not for the fact that the timeline from 20 years ago becomes relevant alongside the hormonal piece mentioned when taken together with the fact I was a 6-time egg donor and started a 7-th cycle with the hormones that was canceled mid-cycle.
I've mentioned the fact of my egg donation in certain circles, and there are a couple of (now archived) blog entries here where I discussed it. There is much that I could say about egg donation from the long-lens perspective of hindsight, positive and less so. That is a blog entry for another day. What matters here, as it relates to everything else, is the fact there is so little research on the long-term effects on donors themselves.
That is changing, I am happy to be engaged with the research surrounding that.
Why that matters to what I'm writing about is that one side-effect we suspect my donating contributed to was premature menopause. When I turned 45, we learned I have a couple of chronic conditions requiring lot of adjustments on my part. We learned at the same time that I was in full (premature) menopause. I had been saying for more than a year that something was off. I suspected but didn't know, and was laughed off. It was frustrating, but answered some questions.
I had not made the connection directly between egg donation and some of my earlier (perimenopausal) symptoms until a recent interview with a researcher about my time as a donor. We covered a lot of history fairly quickly, and given her decades researching the subject, she was able to quickly throw a lot into a way I understood (and admired her skill in doing so).
Most of my serious dental issues began...my lower back issues began...my tree woozies began...my perimenopausal issues began...all in Washington state, around 2003 or so. I was an active donor in Hawaii from 1999 to 2001. I started a cycle from Washington for the same agency (on direct request for me specifically) in 2002 -- and the cycle was canceled on the intended recipient end mid-cycle, but I still took several of the shots.
Being an egg donor involves a lot of hormone injections to stimulate the process of oocyte maturation. There are potential health complications during the entire process that I never gave any thought to - despite the sheer number of eggs removed from me (it is seriously surprising that I never experienced ovarian hyperstimulation syndrome (OHSS)), especially my last complete cycle. I am presently in contact with the agency I donated through (which has changed ownership twice now) in an effort to obtain my old files. I'm not optimistic, but we'll see.
Anyway, fast-forward to returning from our fall break adventure through the other side of Oregon, and I'm still in motion. I started reading about MdDS again, and I tripped over this, from the same site linked at the top of this entry...
"...It turns out that this under-recognized and understudied disorder affects thousands of people every year, typically middle-aged women, though also a fair number of men. Research into MdDS has shown that factors related to the aging brain, hormonal changes, and stress contribute to the vulnerability of triggering an episode. One could take 15 cruises in a lifetime and have no problems, but the 16th one could trigger persistent MdDS..."
I'm middle aged, I suppose, but even setting aside the physical aspects (back, teeth) of what hormonal aftermath of egg donation likely contributed to...it way well have contributed to other aspects of my lived experiences (visual distortions, halo attacks, perpetual motion).
I am not saying or suggesting that I have MdDS...I have not been to a physician for diagnosis. I have the symptoms, but not extreme. I fit the criteria, and resent it. I don't want some rare condition that makes me feel like I'm moving when I'm trying to relax...but it isn't life threatening, and doesn't interfere with daily living...so whatever. I'll keep doing what I'm doing and move on.
I am just feeling, for the second time recently, the sickness of disembarkment.
