There is a part in Wes Anderson’s spectacular film “Isle of dogs” where the beleaguered canines are given a serum injection which instantly cures dog flu, snout fever, and solves the proliferation crisis – all in one shot. The first dog “Chief” excitedly remarks how his eyesight, equilibrium, nervous system issues are all suddenly is resolved as he brightens up with a spark. Eventually, I dream that there will be a similar solution for MECFS.
As I go along, I *apparently* snap ridiculous and certainly unnecessary and unflattering photos of myself looking exhausted. Usually, I share the photos where I manage a smile. (if you’re smart, you know my “tell” of when I am manufacturing a smile). #PokerPlayersNotice. Some of these snaps of possibly on other social channels as a signal that I’m still alive.
I’m not sure why, it’s only sort of a recent habit, but I think it’s because in the future I can look back and say “right on Davey, you hung in there, you didn’t give up, you didn’t take the exit, and look at you, you’re doing right now”.
No sympathy or comment required, just here for some kind of documentation. You can tell by the glasses that they’re mostly since December.
Oh, I realize using “BeReal” (an app that sends you a an alert at a random time interval with a limited amount of time to take a snap something something to share with your friends to be kind of an opposite of Instagram or whatever I don’t know the point) has started this ‘taking pictures of myself for the permanent record when I’m not looking particularly cute’ routine.
So to really complicate things, I’ve made screenshots of these lousy photos with the date stamp on them for the permanent record. Really, you should just move on, but if you don’t, now you know what life with MECFS looks like.
