I gave the cockatoo an empty box that was approx. thirteen inches long, eight inches high, and ten inches deep. Since cockatoo males are known to chew out the inside of trees to make their nests, and he's already eaten a couple of window sills, a layer of the edge of the door, part of the window frame itself, and two curtains, I know that giving him magazines or sheets of newspaper or boxes keeps him busy trying to build a nest for his non-existent mate. Or maybe I'm supposed to be his mate. He's still chewing up and shaping the box, and we are on day two, so he has no reason to escape, he's too busy. I'll never fit into his nest anyways. I think I'm very clever, but then I realize that the United States government does the same thing to our people. Now I feel complicit.
I still have no signs of the infection, but I'm pretty serious about keeping my mask on. It's making eating sunflower seeds extremely difficult, but health is very important. Tomorrow I have the CT to find out what's wrong with me. I mean besides the obvious of not being able to walk and shit. Some stupid tics that spell Myasthenia Gravis keep popping up in my life, it's not like my anxiety can handle it either. Oh wait, the anxiety is another issue. I never had it before, or maybe I have, some people seem to think I have PTSD because of my childhood. Well, one doctor thinks that actually, nobody else really knows. Let's be clear, NOBODY knows, because I don't talk about it, and I'm not talking about it here either.
Do you know what I miss most? Wearing socks, real woolly socks. Because my legs have to have these wraps on them 24/7, I can't wear socks. I used to love the hiking socks made of wool with the thick ticking on the inside to wick away moisture to wear under my three hundred dollar steel-toed hiking boots. I can't even remember the name of the boots anymore, it's been so long. The socks themselves have long disappeared from my clothing supplies, I don't even know where they've gone. I thought they only got lost when you did laundry, but my nine pairs of very expensive socks must have evaporated or something, I haven't seen them in forever, but I remember what they look like, and what they felt like. I recently learned how to knit and have several small hand looms, I've heard that once you make socks you become very much in love with the process. I'm going to make socks despite being unable to wear them. I do have the hiking boots, they are in the bottom of my closet, under a few layers of dust. I sent them to Colorado to be re-soled and got them back with a creak in the right boot, but I lost the ability to wear them very soon after that and so they remain in the closet. Just in case. Just in case I need them, I can walk again, I'm forced to walk a long distance, etc. I'm pretty good at lying to myself.