…… will she know how much I loved her?” – Garth Brooks
Life has been crazy, wonderful, exhausting, sad and joyful. Pretty much like everyone else’s.
The kids are all well, the grandkids are fantastic (most of the time …. they’re mine but they’re not perfect …… all of the time.) There are five of them: 7,5,2,2 and 4 1/2 months. #gigilove
I’ve traveled a lot this year and the year’s only half over. Thank you, Covid. Two years of travel plans stuffed into one is exhausting. And amazing.
Life is full. And yet sometimes I feel that empty space. The space that contained him. It doesn’t happen much these days but once in a while that emptiness brings me to tears.
And then there are the times that I’m reminded of the love that’s still there. The love that overflows from that space …… even without him.
I was listening to some Garth Brooks this afternoon. Some of his songs became “our songs”. And it was always Jim who made me aware of them.
“If Tomorrow Never Comes” is one of those songs. You’ll have to go read the lyrics if you don’t know them.
One morning I woke to find a letter by my bedside. This was decades ago. I won’t tell you exactly how long but suffice it to say that we only had three children. It was a letter that Jim had written the night before, while he watched me sleep. This song was in his head and he wanted to let me know.
He told me what I already knew, but it’s always nice to be told anyway. And especially to put it in writing.
If tomorrow never came, he wanted me to know how very much he loved me. He wanted to make sure that I knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, how much I meant to him.
“And if my time on earth were through And she must face the world without me Is the love I gave her in the past Gonna be enough to last If tomorrow never comes?”
I didn’t know that just about 17 years later …… tomorrow wouldn’t come. But I did know one thing: I was loved beyond measure. And his love is indeed enough to last.
“So, tell that someone that you love Just what you’re thinkin’ of If tomorrow never comes.”
That’s 168 in dog years. Which totally feels appropriate some days.
But this year …… This year was different (and yes, I realize what an understatement that is for the entire world but I’m not talking about Covid).
This year, for the first time in 168 dog years …… I forgot. Forgot. Didn’t see it coming. Even though I know the date. Even though …… even though …… everything.
The picture above is my calendar. The calendar that I change every day. Every. Single. Day.
As I was on my way to bed on Dec 16th I switched the date on the calendar to the 17th. And never thought about it.
I went through the entire day not thinking about it. I looked at that date more than once. And the only thing I thought was, “I need to make three phone calls tomorrow.” because the 18th happens to be the birthday of my sister, my brother and my step-dad. That’s all I thought.
Then last night I received a text from a loving friend, saying that she’s thinking of me and of Jim (even though she never met him …… I love friends like that). And just like that …… I remembered.
I sat on my sofa, stunned. My brain turned to a kind of spider web of mush and I really couldn’t think. I was just …… stunned. And then I said two words, aloud. “Holy shit” That’s all.
I’m still stunned …… 18 hours later. My brain still doesn’t know what to think. I “know” it’s a good thing. My mind knows that, even in its state of shock. But my heart. My heart feels sad that I forgot. It’s a strange kind of limbo.
I have no plans for today. Which is probably good because I feel like I just need to sit with this. Well, sit with it and watch the new Sex in the City episodes. Which I already did. And yes, I cried. But it wasn’t a “bad” cry. It was more of an “I get it” cry. Not “I get it but I wish I didn’t”. Not “I can’t believe this is my life”. Not “I will never survive this”. Just …… “I get it.”
I’ve missed him a lot lately. I missed him at OSU’s Homecoming.
I missed him when our granddaughter played in front of his picture so that he could watch her play.
I missed him at my niece’s wedding, especially as I watched my brother dance with his daughter.
I missed him at Thanksgiving when all of the grands were around.
I missed him on birthdays, anniversaries, days in Texas, days in NY, when I see my children, etc. You get the picture, right? I miss him still. Always. Forever.
But for the first time. The very first time. I forgot. Just like that.
This is a post that has been ruminating for a long time.
But I need to preface it with this:
I’m not asking for sympathy or pity.
I’m not complaining.
I’m not asking you to feel sorry for me.
I’m just being open and honest.
I don’t expect you to get it if you haven’t experienced great loss.
I don’t think that makes you “less than”.
I’m just saying I understand.
This post is mostly for those who grieve,
And the people who love them.
Grief never ends.
The degree to which it washes over you varies, but it never ends.
That’s the first thing that everyone needs to know.
Jim has been dead for over 13 1/2 years.
A lot has happened in those years.
I can’t complain.
But you see …… that’s the thing.
I can’t complain.
I shouldn’t complain.
I don’t want to complain.
I know I am in a wonderful position.
Jim planned for the unimaginable.
And my life is full because of that planning.
Well, almost full.
I live in the greatest city in the world.
I have 6 amazing kids; 3 wonderful bonus kids; 4 terrific grands; loving and living parents; great siblings and in-law siblings; the best group of college friends that anyone could ask for; many, many women New Yorkers that I’ve known both known for years and met recently and loved instantly (shout-out to you, NY Woolfers!).
My life is good.
This is not the life I wanted.
Not at this age.
Hell, not at any age.
I wanted him.
For longer than I had him.
But life moves on.
Kids grow up.
Grandchildren fill out the family.
In and out and all around.
My life is full.
I am happy.
And that’s the point.
I am happy.
But it’s a different happy.
It’s not the happy of “before”.
The light happiness that comes with unconditional love, security and a sense of belonging.
The happiness of naively thinking all of that would never end.
At least not for 50 years.
But it did end.
With the death of Jim came the death of unconditional love, security and belonging.
And the end of that light happiness.
Now my happiness is different.
It’s like taking a balloon that was nearly bursting with helium and replacing that gas with air.
It’s still a full balloon.
It’s just a little …… flat.
That’s how grief feels …… for me …… after all this time.
I’m full, but flat.
That has nothing to do with “not moving on”.
It has nothing to do with not accepting what is.
Nor does it have anything to do with “getting over it”.
Because frankly, that’s not possible so please don’t ever be an A-hole and say that to anyone who’s lost someone.
My life is good.
I know how blessed/privileged/lucky I was to have him, and to now have this life.
…… planning as life returns to a new normal. I’m happy to be planning things again but I also feel very tentative about it. Like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. Again. Anyone else feel like that?
I don’t think life will ever return to the “normal” that we knew a year and a half ago. But it will come close. And I know we all can’t wait.
I once again have trips planned. Trips that have been postponed at least once. Or three times. The first one is in August. We’ll see if it really happens.
While I’m excited about being able to travel again, the #1 thing that I canNOT wait for is Broadway opening up. I. Am. So. Pumped!!
The day that it was announced that shows will start back up Sept 14th I was on the computer looking for tickets. They were very hard to come by. But I scored 2 for The Lion King. I’m taking Son #3 on Day 2 of the re-opening. Yes, I’ve seen this show before and I loved it. But even if I didn’t …… I just want to be sitting in a theatre as soon as I can. No matter what show it is. And supporting Broadway. Whoop!
New York is really coming back to life. The things that used to make most New Yorkers complain are now making us smile. The crowds, the lines, the waits. The tourists. But now we’re smiling about them and loving them. I’m giving this “honeymoon period” another week or so. At the most.
I’m heading back to Texas this weekend to spend the month of June. I get to spend time with the Littles. I also get to have some serious dental work done. Ugh. And yes, I’m going back to Texas to go to my dentist. Because serious dental work is much cheaper in Waco. Even when you count airline tickets.
In July all of the Littles (and their parents) are coming to NY! My apartment will be full. To the brim. I can’t wait. I’m especially excited to have the two oldest here since they really love it and get excited about being here. It’s so fun to see things through the eyes of children.
So anyway …… those are all the things I’m tentatively planning. Hopefully Covid, or some form of it, won’t rear its ugly head at us again. If it does, then I’m thinking that a colony on Mars is sounding pretty good.
That’s how long we should’ve been married, as of yesterday. It’s a long time.
One that I didn’t get.
It’s been 13 years, 5 months and 10 days. That he didn’t get.
One hundred and sixty one months and 10 days.
Four thousand, nine hundred and ten days.
But who’s counting?
Me, that’s who.
Our anniversary date has come and gone for the last few years without much pain. In fact, I almost forgot it last year.
But this year …… this year May 28th and I stared each other down as it approached. We stared hard. I have no idea why this year was different. Or why I’ve been missing him more than usual lately.
I know I’ve written about this before, but it’s curious how the body grieves without the mind sometimes. I wonder if anyone’s actually studied that? My body, which includes my heart, grieves for him even when I’m not aware there’s a reason. A specific reason, I mean. Of course him just being dead is reason enough, is it not?
My heart has been grieving him especially hard this spring. So yesterday was …… sad.
I miss him. A lot. After 117,840 hours, give or take, I still cry when I type those three words. I. Miss. Him.
I have a friend from high school who was married on that same day. She’s been married all of the time that I haven’t. I envy her.
She takes time every year to send me a note to tell me that she’s thinking of me on May 28th. I love her for that. She’ll probably never know how much I love it. And how much I need it.
It’s nice to be thought of. It’s nice to be remembered. And it’s wonderful when Jim is remembered.
It’s the best gift I could receive. Especially after 701 weeks and three days.
Since many of you who read this blog are also widowed, I know that you get the latter part of that sentence.
My family had a change a couple of weeks ago that was not good. It was heart breaking. About a month ago Daughter #2 called to tell me that the little boy whom we all thought would one day join our family permanently, was going to be placed elsewhere. She had found out quite suddenly and since everyone involved in his case had been asking her from Day 1 if she’d be willing to adopt him, it was also quite unexpected. She told me that it would be happening within the next week of so, so if I wanted to spend any time with him I should come to Texas asap.
Two days later I was there. I wanted to spend as much time with him as possible and I also wanted to be there to support my daughter. We enjoyed him, cuddled him, held him, played with him and just spent time with him. We talked about the day that he’d be leaving (having no idea when it would actually arrive) and we managed to not cry every time we did.
But when that evening did arrive, the pain and grief were almost unbearable. The boys took it very well. My daughter has done a great job of explaining fostering to them and so they know that kids will come and go. They’ve seen them come and go. D2 never told them that the baby would be there forever …… she’s always very cautious around that subject. For good reason.
But she and I were a mess that night. The tears flow as I write this because I still (and will always) miss that sweet child. I pray for him and for his family. I prayed over him that night, asking God to please bless him and them, to keep him strong and healthy and for him to have a good life. It was the only thing that I could do for him. And it didn’t feel like it was enough.
He has gone to live with his siblings and a grandparent. I’m thrilled for them and for the joy that they’ll have with him in their lives. I pray that he experiences just as much joy with them.
But my heart breaks for him and the way this was handled. He has lived with D2 and the boys for more than half of his short life. He loves and adores them. And I know he loves me.
I wish that this sudden move had been more of a slow transition so that he could get to know the family with whom he’d be living. I wish that the people who were supposed to be looking out for him had actually done that. I wish that someone had taken into account how his tiny but big heart would feel to be suddenly taken from the mama he’d come to know and love.
So yes, my heart hurts for him mostly. I know he’s only a baby, but babies are not immune to feelings of abandonment. And we’ve learned that they don’t just “get over” loss But I pray that he’ll experience so much love and joy in his new home that he will heal from this loss. Please join me in that prayer.
In other news of change …… Son #3 moved to NYC this past weekend. And that’s a good change. I came home Sunday afternoon and he met me for dinner and then a tour of his apartment, which is on the opposite side of the Park from mine.
We had a good time together and he is very, very happy. That does a mom’s heart good. A lot of good. I think it will be fun to have him here and I look forward to being able to spend time with him. (For you long time followers …… who’d a thunk?!)
Other news: my father was hospitalized with Covid for three weeks. Almost two of those were in ICU. He then spent another two weeks in a nursing home. He’s home now and doing better, but it’s still a very long road. He’s still on oxygen and has a hard time exerting himself. Baby steps, though. Huge baby steps.
The next time I hear someone say that this virus is made up, I may just have to slap them.
Oh, while I was in Waco I got my vaccine! Such a huge relief. It was the J&J shot so it’s one and done. While that’s great, let me just tell you that that vaccine hurt like a SOB! So it’s probably a good thing that it’s only one injection. Seriously.
The day before I came back to NY we celebrated Grandson #3’s first birthday. It was wonderful to spend some time with him and with his parents. It’s hard to believe that both new grandchildren are now 1. I hope that I get to see more of them this year than I did in the last. Covid sucks.
That’s it for now. I’m very happy to be back home. I miss the boys but NY will always have a hold on me. One to which I gladly give in.
Hug your people. If you can’t hug them (yet) then call them and tell them that you love them. And then hug them as soon as you can.
…… has come and will hopefully become a much better year than its predecessor. Although it didn’t start off too well, did it?
I think I’m going to just skip the political crap, other than to say that it’s a breath of fresh air to have a sane, caring and ethical man in the White House. I do not for one second think that the bat shit craziness is over, but I’m choosing to look forward with hope. Hope helps.
So, when last I left you we were still waiting for the election. It’s been awhile.
While all of my kids and their kids have been healthy and well, Covid didn’t leave us unscathed. My father in law died shortly before Thanksgiving …… from Covid. He went into the hospital for a fractured pelvis but did well there. Then they sent him to rehab. The day he went into rehab, a Friday, he tested negative. By Monday he was positive. He died 8 days later. Alone. I went to Oklahoma for the small, socially distanced* funeral. All 3 of my sons went. As well as my daughter in law (my grandson stayed safely home). Covid and distance kept my daughters away. He was 95 and lived a very good life. He was happy and blessed. And he didn’t deserve to die from that. Nor did the other 437,000+ people in our country. T.A.N.W.
I had plans to go to Texas for the holidays the week of Christmas and then return shortly after Christmas. The best laid plans.
Daughter #2 received two foster children the week of Thanksgiving. The first was a 2 year old girl. Sixteen hours later she received a 3 month old boy. She was a wee bit overwhelmed. So I changed my trip and went to Texas on Dec 1st, thinking I’d return on Jan 3. Again …… those dang plans.
Things were hoppin’ at her house. The kids all seemed to adapt to one another, for the most part. The boys actually did much better than I expected. They seemed to enjoy having a little sister. Most of the time. They loved having a little brother. All of the time. The two year old was, naturally, a two year old. Her favorite word was “NO!” This got old after the first two times. And it got really old when 3 year old E started to copy it. At school. But I think D#2 nipped that in the bud. Good for her.
We celebrated Christmas at her house. All of my kids came, which was wonderful. Everyone quarantined and tested and quarantined some more. We social distanced* the best we could and no one ended up getting Covid. Yay for that. It was great to see everyone, especially Daughter#1, whom I hadn’t seen since last Christmas. Stupid Covid.
After Christmas I decided to stay and help D2 a little longer. It seemed that the little girl would soon be placed with a relative so I thought I’d stay to help. She was a lot. It took a bit longer than we thought but she was finally transitioned on Jan 18th. I flew back to NY the next day. I don’t waste time.
While it was wonderful to hang with my grandsons and my daughter, I missed my own space. My own, very quiet, very peaceful space. Grand-parenting can be exhausting! Or maybe that’s just me. Whatever. I own it.
All of my kids and grands are doing well. Son #3 graduated from law school in December, a semester early. Now he needs to decide where he wants to live/work/take the Bar. I thought he’d be staying in Colorado, but it appears that may not be the case. He’s thinking about moving to NYC. While it would be nice to have him closer (not too close, he has 2 big dogs so that ensures he won’t live with me!), I think he might need a reality check. But …… I’m not the one to give that. He’s 26 and will do whatever he thinks is best. I’ll just sit back and watch. I just hope that he’ll be happy wherever he lands.
I’d totally love it if more of my kids moved up here. They all seem to love NY, though a couple may love it only as a place to visit. It will be interesting to see what the future holds. Who knows? I may decide to move somewhere else. But not for two years. I have a lease. They kind of frown when you break those.
I passed the 13 year mark of widowhood in December. Unimaginable. Yet true. I still think of him every day. I still miss him every day. I don’t expect those two things to change. Ever.
His birthday was earlier this month. This was the first time that I didn’t post that on FB. I’m not sure why. Was that a sign of “growth”? Or maybe that I just didn’t want to go there? In all honesty, I completely forgot what day it was. Helping out with four kids all under the age of 6 can do that to a person. I rarely knew what day of the week it was, let alone the date. One of my daughters reminded me. And then a lovely friend from the past called me. We hadn’t talked in a long time so that felt wonderful and special. Other than that …… it was just a date. To many people. I’m not sure what that says so I won’t read anything into it. As the saying goes, “It is what it is.”
New York is doing pretty well. Other than that no theatre thing. Indoor dining will return to 25% capacity on Feb 14th. We’re still low in numbers compared to most other states. Almost everyone here wears a mask without having to be yelled at. The vaccine has, like most other places, disappeared for now. But hopefully that will be rectified.
I’m doing well. I still love being here, even if I can’t go out to do what I want. I seem to keep busy doing pretty much nothing. Well, I’m in two book clubs and a movie club that meets twice a month. We watch 3 movies every two weeks. It’s not as fun as going out to a movie together but it’s still fun to see those faces every two weeks. I’m taking my second course of American Sign Language over Zoom every week. I finished the first one over Christmas. It may or may not be starting to eat my lunch now. I need to practice more.
I play Mahjongg once or twice a week. On line with friends and every once in awhile, in person. Socially distanced.*
I started knitting a blanket. We’ll see how far that goes.
My plants are all doing extremely well, which never ceases to amaze me.
I attend church online. We were meeting in person before Thanksgiving, very socially distanced*. But that only lasted about 4 weeks before the numbers started going up in NY and that was the end of that.
I meet with a group of wid friends every Friday night for happy hour. I love those women and our time together. Widowed peeps are the best.
Last night I went to a friend’s apartment to watch a play online, socially distanced.* Three other friends came. We all live in the same building. It was wonderful to get to see them after such a long absence. I had to quarantine when I got back to NY, but only for three days. I had a negative test before I left and then on the 4th day after I arrived I took another test, which was also negative. That’s how you get out of quarantine in NY. But I’m still pretty careful about going out and getting together with friends. It’s not often and it’s definitely careful.
It’s a good thing that I’m more introvert than extrovert. I’m sure you “people” people are going mad. I get that. You get your energy from being around people. Being around people can zap mine. Being around toddlers can put me into a coma! But I digress.
I guess that’s all the news from here. I’m toying around with starting a new blog that deals with Christianity and politics. I wasn’t sure if it was time to put that somewhere else other than here. Thoughts?
I hope you all had good, uneventful holidays. I hope that you and your loved ones are healthy. I hope that 2021 is kinder to you than the last year.
I hope it’s kinder to all of us.
*I hate the phrase “socially distanced” and I hate that we have to do it. But I know that it’s important for us ALL to do it so that we can beat this thing, so I make sure to include it in telling you, my lovely readers, what I’m doing. Also, I don’t want any of you screaming at me in all caps.
So it’s been a week. The first two days I felt a huge sense of relief to be away from it. I was glad to not be inundated with political crap. I was glad to not find out which friends are racist. I was happy to have more time to do other things.
After a few days I started to miss posting things. I would see something interesting or thought provoking or extraordinarily cute and think, “I need to post that”, only to remember that I don’t currently do that.
And then I remembered that I’m a member of a few groups that I need to stay connected with. So that was a conundrum. I didn’t take that into consideration when I cut FB out of my life. So I may be back sooner than I expected. But definitely not until after the election.
This week has been a week full of feelings. Relief. Happiness. Freedom. Anger. Sadness. Lots and lots of sadness.
I’m sad that Christian friends I’ve known and worshipped with for over 20 years have shown their racist colors.
I’m sad that many places here in my city are starting to board up their windows and doors in preparation for the election. This is a picture I took today of a store on my block:
Bloomingdale’s and Macy’s have boarded up, too. Macy’s is now hidden behind a depth of 5 boards.
How sad is that? I’ve never experienced this kind of thing over an election. An election. A practice of democracy. Something that usually brings excitement, pride and anticipation. Not this year. This year it brings mainly sadness.
I’m sad that I can’t just go off and visit my grandchildren whenever I want to. A visit now requires testing and quarantining. And then quarantining some more.
I’m sad that, before I deactivated my FB account, I unfriended a friend. It was my first unfriending in the last 4 years, for reasons related to, but not solely based on, politics. This wasn’t political for me. It was based on racism.
I can agree to disagree with the best of them. I have more friends than I can count with whom I disagree with politically. I have more family members than I’d like to have with whom I disagree. But …… racism. That’s a whole other ballgame.
When what you think affects what the future may look like for these two loves in my life …… you’re out.
That’s not even something I will think twice about. I won’t agree to disagree. I won’t give you the benefit of doubt. I won’t listen to your explanation. I will cut you from my life. And that’s that.
When I look at a picture of those two incredible human beings …… I feel tremendous joy, immense pride, unfathomable love …… and incredible sadness.
Sadness for the ignorance, the denial, the hate that is in our country. All based on the melatonin in their skin.
I also feel fear. Deep, soul crushing fear for what their future might hold. Based on the melatonin in their skin.
So much love. So much fear. So much anger. So much exhaustion.
…… with Facebook. This morning I deactivated my account. I just can’t do it anymore.
I’m tired of the negativity. I’m saddened and angered by posts of people I think of as friends and family. I’m disgusted by the ones who refuse to acknowledge racism as they spout it on their pages.
The straw that broke the camel’s back was a post a friend made, posting a meme from a man who said that he, as a white father, had to give his teens “The Talk”, too, so it’s no different than what parents of black and brown teens do. And therefore, it’s not a need based in race. She agreed and said that she’d done the same thing with her children. Many other friends “liked” it (or “loved” it). Some commented that they, too, had done that. They are all white.
I can’t describe the emotion that was roiling through me. I was beyond sad that people I had considered friends would espouse this. I was angry that people I had considered friends would outright deny the racism in our country that makes “The Talk” (to children of color) necessary. My hands were shaking so hard that I couldn’t even type a response. Which was probably a good thing because I needed to calm down and gather my thoughts. I knew that if I didn’t, my words would flow fast and angrily and I wouldn’t be able to stop. So I waited.
And then all I wrote was something like this: “As a grandmother of two little boys of color, this post makes me sad beyond belief.” It was all I could trust myself to type.
And then …… I was asked, “Why?”
At first I thought about not responding at all. But then I decided that no one benefits from people withholding the truth. And so I told them why it made me sad. And why it made me angry. And how I wished that people could look at people through the eyes of Christ and not politics so that they could see the truth. I explained how the real “Talk” was NOTHING like anything they had to tell their children. And how lucky they were because of that.
Then some smart ass man decided to attack me. And that was that.
Last night I woke up at 2 a.m., thinking about that post, the people who had liked it, the ass who had spouted off …… and realized it was ridiculous that FB was keeping me awake. FB isn’t what it used to be. So why was I spending energy and time on it?
And then I heard God whisper, “Let it go.”
Honestly, I have trouble letting things like that go. I don’t always listen when God says, “Put Me first”. But I’ve been working on that. And so, in the middle of the night I thought, “Okay, Janine …… you’re currently doing a Bible study on discipleship and putting God first. Walk the walk and stop the talk.”
And so …… I deactivated my account first thing this morning. Yes, I will miss keeping up with my friends and seeing baby pictures and knowing what’s going on. But I won’t miss the negativity, the nastiness, the lies, the disinformation, the support of liars or the hurt that comes when friends show themselves for something other than I thought.
I have no idea if this is a permanent thing. I didn’t delete the account. I have too many pictures to save to do that! Maybe I’ll come back. Maybe I won’t.
Right now, I’m not thinking about that. I’m thinking of the other things I’ll do to fill what would’ve been Facebook time. And praying that our country is able to be saved from the path its on now.
I want us to reach out to each other instead of shutting each other down. I want us to unite instead of divide. I want us to love instead of hate.
I’m in no way perfect or blameless. But I hope to be better. I want to do better.
So, goodbye Facebook. I’d like to say I’ll miss you. But I won’t.
Sorry. I’d loved to say that life had gotten in the way but we all know that’s not really true.
Since I last left you I made a short, unexpected trip back to Waco.
I was there for a week to sign some papers, get my car inspected and re-registered.
You know …… fun!
But I did get to see some of the grands and some of my kids so that was great.
I then came back to NY where I’ve been quarantined again (for the most part). Today is my last day. It’s gone mostly well if you don’t count the last three days from hell.
Not to get visually graphic but I don’t think there were any fluids left in my body by the end of Friday. I wasn’t sure what was going on and then I think I put my finger on it. This happened once before and I ended up in the ER with it about a year or so ago. At the time my theory was shrugged off by the Dr but now I know I was right. Both times I took an Alleve in the morning on an empty stomach. I was fine for a few hours and then wham!
It hit fast and furious and was painful and horrific. The end result (if you get my drift) was blood. A whole lot of blood. Which is why I went to the ER. At that time they just gave me an IV, anti nausea drugs, an antibiotic and sent me home saying it had probably been an infection. I felt better the next day.
On Friday I took the Alleve because I’d been having severe pain in my neck and shoulder muscles. Again, I was fine for a few hours. And then I wasn’t. At all.
Death would’ve been welcomed.
My ribs in the front and back are still sore from all of the empty heaving. Well, except for the two cups of coffee I had after I took the Alleve.
I think I may be off coffee now. And Alleve. At least on an empty stomach.
So there you go. My weekend.
How was yours? 🤣
In other news, I have been more politically active this year than ever. I’ve spent the last week filling out postcards to encourage people to vote. It’s easy to do when you’re stuck inside. And it’s a pretty easy task.
Of course, I make it a bit more difficult when I have to fight the urge to write things like, “You poor thing! I can NOT believe your parents named you that!”. Or, “Wow, you really live in ______?! I’ve always wanted to visit. Do you love it?”
You know, things like that. I’m sure that’s not an issue for most people but then, I’m not most people, am I?
And in even more other news, my Waco house finally sold. I know!
So it’s time to get all of my ducks in a row and make NY official. Yes, it IS about time.
Now if we can just reach a point where we can travel without having to quarantine! Even with masks. I don’t care, I just want to be able to go to Texas often and not have to stay stuck in my apartment every time I return.