Chronic Ama

I have the house to myself for a spell. I put on makeup and another new dress to test run today. Then, I decided to clean and purge the pantry. I've found strange (to me) things: 4 opened bags of powdered sugar . The need to wear an apron to complete this task. Nuts seeds and sugar free chocolate.... all the low carb snacks I learned to love and then dismissed as soon as Halloween crept near. Extra dry vermouth because I forgot that i can make a pretty good classic martini. 10 bag clips not attached to anything. And finally, a sense of accomplishment that I haven't felt for a long time.

I long to be on the go, to be outside in the warm January sun. I want to finish all the things I've started today.... the laundry in the washer, dryer and couch. The dishes in the sink from breakfast and the freezer meal prep this morning. The pantry in need of a clean out to make dinner menus and put away today's groceries. The little details I've started in the patio in acrylic paint. Lastly, my planner in need of my inked ideas for getting through the next week and a half so I can begin planning my recovery. I feel robbed and almost victimized by my illness right now. More so because it feels more than evident that something else is at play. My feet and hands hurt badly. Last night, I clung to my husband's chest as the lower part of my back tightened and released again and again for what seemed like endless moments. I held back my tears because I didn't want to ruin our evening vegetation ritual that we both desperately need through the week. I watch little old

I made it to the bookstore today. I didn't find what I wanted, but the chickens found more than their allotment. They each came home with three more books to add to the piles they received for Christmas. My only glorious find was a valentines gift for my husband. I should hide it in the pantry, where he can never find anything. We came home and I forced everyone outside. Today has been the first nice day in a bit. Southern Arizona got a taste of winter and it was like your least favorite vegetable.  The kids started with a volcano science experiment set. I really hope I'm not cooking anything that calls for vinegar anytime soon. I can't get the smell out of my nose, or the kitchen or the outside trash can.  I started out with a Coke Zero. I was bored, which is the one thing I cannot stand to hear anyone complain about. Then, as quickly as the sun warmed me up, I remembered that I had this grand idea for painting the porch posts. I had even picked up acrylic paints when

A lot of my days consist of resting wrapped in my favorite blanket and afternoon tea because night time is hit or miss. I didn't sleep much last night. I ended up falling asleep on top of all the bed covers with my heated blanket because I couldn't move to get under them. At 1:30 this morning, I wandered into the kitchen for more meds and water and debated just staying awake until I got tired again. I didn't. I went back to my heated blanked that was now turned off and rearranged my pillows and stared at all the odd shapes that things make in the dark. I think around 3am I found sleep again. I wanted to wake up and go to the bookstore. I was still pretty sleepy as I made brunch at 11am. I drank coffee in a daze and I can probably only recount parts of my day. I allowed myself to fall asleep in the recliner in the late afternoon. The sound of cartoons didn't bother me as my zombie kids wrapped themselves in blankets and relaxed on their second to last day of win

It's really a flawed design when you look at it. Who ever thought a heart and brain belong inside the same being at once in a forced coexistence? Mine are constantly at war. Neither can ever be wrong. Sometimes I have to take sides. Sometimes my gut has to get a word in. Sometimes I'm just sitting in the middle listening and taking bits of wisdom from each, trying to make sense of the world around me. How do you choose which one to follow?

When we lose someone we can talk and think about so many things. Love. Family. Grief. Sadness. Joy. But that's just the thing.... I told my mom that it's a strange thing. Death is the only guarantee in life, the single thing we can bank on. And we know nothing about it. The truth is, we know everything about it. We know that it brings people together. We know that it reminds us how important life truly is. We know it encompasses every emotion known to man all at once and one by one. We learn from it and we live from it. Death inspires art. Death inspires poetry. Death inspires science. Music, literature, philosophy, religion… an unending list of beautiful things born out of grief and darkness.  I think what we can take away from this is what each of us chooses. We can choose to grieve. We can choose anger. Both are emotions that have run through my veins on such occasions. But I also chose not to hold on to them. I reach for every little drop of love and

In the spawn of a second, nothing really changed but a digit on my smart phone screen. Why do we celebrate a new year anyway? Because each calendar year must be ended and commemorated with the illusions of resolutions for a new set of numbers to live by. That's a lot to take in. Because life is, simply, cyclical. What begins, must come to an end. What ends fosters new beginning. I don't do resolutions. I never have. Besides, there are so many ways to resolve to be better and no one way is truly the right way. And why would anyone resolve to do the same things over again because you didn't accomplish them previously? That, my friends, is a sure route to depression and self loathing that not one of us deserves. Seriously, don't resolve to do anything for the second year unless you have a damned good excuse for not getting it done the first time around. That's probably how aging works. You can never spend to much time wishing because you end up with a bag of regret.