Sebastian

Not before breakfast, but also I felt like I was doing the impossible things, not just thinking them...

Work was a lot; I had meetings all afternoon, overrunning into each other, beset by people missing the point. I think another way the power dynamic of people with no (disclosed) disabilities who have to consult disabled people for their work... sometimes someone missed a crucial bit -- we're not just ranking these on their effectiveness but also their difficulty of implementation -- and sometimes one person thinks we need every detail of the specific symbols on the Berlin U-bahn and/or S-bahn maps (this is a breach of the maxim of quantity: as much information as is needed, and no more).

That latter person talked so much at the end that I missed the first train home that I wanted.

And as these meetings were going on, I also had to get something to my manager (artificial sense of urgency!) which I was really unsure of, something I've never done before and am not sure I'm doing right, so that was stressful. I almost think it was easier trying to do it at the same time as the meetings, since it kept me from being able to get too anxious about it; I just had to go "good enough!" and send him the documents at some point.

By the time of the second one, V had put dinner in the oven which meant I didn't have to cook, which was nice (we keep frozen meals around for precisely this kind of day; D was sleeping and V had already used a lot of spoons they didn't really have today and I wasn't home yet).

I just had time to eat that and watch the first inning or so of the Tigers-Twins game (which I didn't have high hopes for because it was a Skubal start, but it apparently went well! (has something happened to the Tigers?? silveradept, you doin' okay?)) before it was time to go help angelofthenorth get two heavy pieces of furniture down two flights of stairs.

I figured it was the kind of thing that would either be pretty quick or pretty grueling, and it was pretty quick. We didn't break anything, including ourselves. I rehydrated a little and walked home because buses are disappointing that time of night; the walk was actually nice: it was still warm even after dark (I'm not used to that yet!), it was clear and quiet, and the exercise was probably good for my muscles. I still struggled to even get myself into the shower when I got home though, heh.

And now painkillers and bed!

I woke up about fifteen minutes before my alarm this morning.

And it wasn't a struggle to get out of bed. Or to have my meds, or get dressed. I checked the weather first, and the predicted high was 69(F, of course), which is nice indeed! So I got to wear a sleeveless top and shorts and sandals.

I started work on time, if not a bit early. It was easy to get my morning chores done, even with a hurty tummy -- I didn't want breakfast yet but I had mint-and-vanilla tea which is my go-to for hurty tummy. I made the regular pot of tea for everyone else, though.

I hung the towels and bedsheets outside -- for the first time this year! -- and was so happy to get to do this, under a bright blue sky, my skin warming in the sun.

I did so many extra little chores during the day! I cleaned my glasses. I cleaned my phone. I refilled the bottles of spray cleaner and toilet cleaner that needed refilling from the 5-liter jugs. I put laundry away. I was able to prepare most of dinner before counseling -- instead of not at all, which is my usual for Tuesdays.

All of this is because the days have gotten longer and the sun has come back out.

Every fall/winter, I worry that I'm just bad at stuff and things will be horrible forever. And every spring, there's a Monday (or in this case a Tuesday) where something in my brain clicks into place when I get a certain amount of sunlight -- not vitamin D from the pills, not lumens from the SAD lamp; I have those things and I'm sure they help but nothing like the fact that the colors are right and the outside is hospitable again.

Well, as I'm always saying at work -- and I learned this from trans activists, if you don't have access to public toilets, you don't have access to public life.

This article, no doubt among others, points out that if we don't have access to space toilets, we don't really have access to space.

It’s very funny, because toilets are funny, but I also find it touching because it’s so relatably human. Space missions are filled with impossibly genius men and women achieving scientific feats far beyond our intelligence, discussing them with indecipherable jargon and initialisms, and then they’re talking about toilets. Hey! Toilets! I use those things too. Everyone needs toilets. ...

It took NASA six years and $23 million to design the Universal Waste Management System, and it was first installed on the International Space Station in 2020. The UWMS—invariably referred to by everyone at NASA as simply "the toilet"—uses suction to keep waste from escaping, and captures and filters the urine it collects to return to the craft's water supply. Just as importantly, it is capable of handling what NASA calls "dual ops—when they’re doing both defecation and urination at the same time,” said Melissa McKinley, the toilet's project manager.

I'm charmed that the toilet status is right at the top of this pleasing website where you can track the mission.

Before the crew settled in for their first sleep, ahead of a perigee burn Thursday morning, Koch called down with a question: The astronauts would like to pee before bed. Are you sure this thing is safe to use? Houston offered reassurance. "Christina, you are good to use toilet all night."

It's so lovely go to bed knowing that the toilet is there for you, any time you need it.