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Oh, hai, happy pill switch nausea: welcome to the daily rotation, a most impressive debut, to be certain. Nothing a few pretzels couldn't fix (though NuHerbie wasn't thrilled) but wow. A first in all of my happy-pill connoisseur-dom, but it had to happy eventually, I'm sure, part of the deal, et al: better than vacillating between bouncing off the walls and wanting to hide behind them. But yeah, wow. Impressive. Slow clap, well played, well played.

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Made the first attempt at my last-ditch effort to safely – with NuHerbie the Insulin Pump in tow – add mileage (back) to my run: drive up to the running trail (half mile away or so), park, and slowly add loops and mileage (as opposed to adding mileage by running the roads around my slice of wanton heartlandia as I have the past decade). At least this way I don't have to take "blood sugar ok enough to get home" into account: even if I do go low, I keep glucose shots in the truck - at it's furthest away from me, it's a few tenths of a mile away – and sit it out in the truck until it pops back up. Plus, it's nice to not have to think about school traffic or to interact with anyone. If I can add one more loop, I can get back to my previous daily mileage (six miles), though I'd be ecstatic with a consistent daily five.

in

Yes, you've seen (variations of / upon) this post before, once last night, once this morning, and now here, at morning's end; third time's a charm especially when a.) I find that I do, indeed, like writing these throughout the morning and b.) to arrive all the way back to how I started this experiment last week so I can kick myself in the ass.

One of those days, already.

Recovery from a rough night with NuHerbie (hence this morning's shittier-than-usual Attendance Card; I've been awake since 0300) continues. Went out of CGM range at around 0100, then stayed out of range, but NH was still pumping insulin – doing it so well in fact that when I finally made the decision to get up and figure WTF, I was, according to fingerprick and my blood, a teetering 56: nothing that 15g of carbs via gel and a handful of caramel popcorn (ok that was probably stupid but fuck me I was hungry) couldn't assuage and send me surging to 264 by breakfast, crashing back to 56 post-run, and now, after correcting via similar methods to the early morning, 241, 225, 202, 196...)

The definition of insanity being / welcome to day-to-day T1D.

Thinking: once MainFictionThing is done, I need to abandon all ideas from before my grandfather died and write from a zero point; a deepening conflict between the writer that started this FictionThing and the writer that's (allegedly) finishing it – though I am taking one final hail mary to see if that does the trick. Whether or not I get there is another matter: everything we create is, after all, a reflection of our past, present, and future – for better or for worse / consciously or un–.

The day / one of those days(?) awaits.