Tap Tap Tap

I admit it. It's been a hard week for me. There's a good hard and a bad hard. It's been a little of both. When this happens, there is no motivation to blog; zero, zip, zilch, nix, nadda, nothing. I'm not sure if it's a trough or a straight line in life. Although I take photos with the intent to blog, the words don't come. Even with a fantastic keyboard that I really enjoy using, it's a struggle to line up the alphabet in such a way that letters form words, form sentences, form paragraphs.

Part of that has been the arrival of spring. After a cold and dreary winter, who wouldn't want to be outside in the warmth, albeit brief, of days in the 60's and a Sunday in the 70's. I just sit; just myself and the girls; on the deck steps and let the sunshine fall on me. I close my eyes and feel the warmth and I've been remembering springs on the farm growing up, all the potential that spring gives and trying to capture it inside me, to give me potential into this new year.

I've had the last of my physical therapy appointments and Carrie has worked, not just on my knees, but also on my shoulders. It makes me laugh when she finds a knot in my shoulder muscles and squeals with delight. "I love getting knots out," she says. It's been quite painful, but the range of motion I have back in my shoulder is worth the pain. I can actually scratch "that" spot again. You know the one, the spot you have to use the door jam to scratch because it's between the shoulder blades. I used to be able to easily scratch it and now, once again, I can.

The other things I can do now; I can look over my shoulder without turning my body and when I stand up, I don't have to think about where my feet are in relation to my body. Perhaps these things are automatic to you, but they haven't been for me. While I have medical bills that will take some time to pay, this was so worth it to be able to get up out of a chair and just walk without stopping to make sure the feet and legs are communicating with one another and I won't trip because the legs don't want to move and the feet have been told to get going. I have 6 separate pages of exercises that, if I did one a day, would keep this mobility for a long time to come. The key is to feel motivated to do a page a day. This week, there has been no motivation.

I finally got a haircut. I think it was October when I last cut the hair. They do a great job at Great Clips and the sides look lovely when they are growing out. I had them even up the sides and then take a full inch off the bangs. No more looking like a sheepdog. I should have done this sooner but I lacked the motivation to do so. It seemed to feed off the general ennui I've been feeling. A coupon for $5.00 off their usual hair cut price, sent in a mailer, got me motivated to get it done. I was still getting compliments on the cut even with the shaggy bangs. Now, I'm much happier. I will go in for a bangs trim in June or July but I won't get the rest cut until later in the year. It was the perfect thing to do on a sunny Sunday morning.

But, it didn't get me blogging. Business has picked up and I come home tired. It's been extra tiring because I'm going through a period of mild insomnia. I've come to see that this is part of living with RA. I have a problem with tingling in my toes only at night when I'm trying to get to sleep. I take a medication for that, but I have to take it at least an hour before bed. If I forget, I'll hop into bed, only to have my toes feel like a bee colony has invaded. It's impossible to sleep with that.

I haven't found that my mind is racing ahead with all sorts of things I should do, haven't done, couldn't do or wished I could do. I just find that I can't sleep. I can't fall asleep. Pilchard has been coming to see me, hops up on the pillow, but she never settles down and stays. Mija doesn't come until I've actually fallen asleep. She doesn't like the tossing and turning. Well, neither do I.

Several friends have sent emails wondering where I am. "I check for updates and there haven't been any. Are you okay?" That always surprises me. It makes me grateful for my readers and my friends who wonder just what's going on, who come here for whatever little insight I might provide to your day.

And I have to say that part of the not wanting to write or feeling motivated to write is because I'm happy. I'm content. Oh things aren't where I'd wish they could be. I need new tires on the Jeep. The drain from the laundry tubs to the sewer is 99% clogged. I just keep it open with brute force. I need new laundry tubs in addition to having that line cleared. I could use help in cleaning the basement. There's some major electrical work I need done in the back half of the house. The list of doctors I should see for yearly check-ups is long. I know it's all revolving around my RA, but I don't want to be poked and prodded, not to mention the medical bills just check-ups will generate. I need to get new tennis shoes, shoes specifically designed for walking. The ones I have are okay for every day tasks, but I want to get back into walking and my feet hurt when I did a walking exercise on Sunday. Walking shoes are a cha-ching purchase, but, again with RA, I need those to provide support for my feet. (It's quite amazing the information available if you just go looking for it. I've become quite educated on this disease.) There are other things, but you get the picture.

Remember the pot hole allusion? They are still there but I can step over them now. I almost never fall into one.

Still, this is nothing. If I ruminate on it, of course I'll get down; of course I'll feel that life is hard. I choose not to have these thoughts at the forefront of my life. I choose to be happy to have popcorn for supper, sunshine on my face and a recliner to sit in and nap, even if that nap screws with my sleep schedule later. I'm happy. I'm content and in that happiness, that contentedness, even with the problems I face every day, the list of things I should tackle, the lack of funds to do some things, I am at ease. I get sad, no question about that. It's a normal human condition, but choosing to be grateful for what I have means that sadness doesn't last.

I realized, over the weekend, that there is truth in the idea that creative writers need some angst to tap into to keep going. I'm not motivated to write when I'm happy. Is it because there is nothing to complain about? Is that complaint what spurs one on to examine the human condition? I'm not sure. I haven't felt like writing because I'm happy.

I have, however, heard the voices of my friends. You keep in touch with me via this blog. I should be sharing the ups and downs of life, the funny things, the sad things, the annoying things, the observations I have, whether I'm frustrated or happy. It's probably more important to share when I'm happy. It feeds on itself. It really does. Just as feeling sorry for yourself can send you into a downward spiral, feeling grateful for anything you can find in a day, pulls you upwards.

There will always be potholes in life. Some will be huge, some medium and some you can step over. It's been a hard week, in that I've been tired and unmotivated, but it's been a hard week because I'm happy and unmotivated. I'll try to be better at tapping out posts. There's a lot to observe and ruminate upon, especially when I'm happy.

Beverage:  Water

Deb