A Promise of Better Things

I have been noticeably absent this space since early April. It's been a combination of things. I have not felt well. The warm spring days were followed by chilly and damp days. I don't do chilly and damp very well anymore. It settled into my joints and I found myself aching much more than usual. My rheumatologist agreed that this spring has been hard on people with joint problems.

Then, our work load quadrupled, which sounds like an exaggeration, but is not. I found myself doing day trips two, three and four days out of a week. I appreciate that fate or God or karma decided last year I needed a newer car because the drives to all these places was ever so much nicer when it was done in a car with adequate heat and windshield wipers, as well as cruise control and the ability to sip, not guzzle, gas.

This became something of a bad circle. I ached because of the wild swings in weather. I ached because of all the driving and walking. I couldn't get comfortable at night to fall asleep and stay asleep because I ached, which made me tired. Weekends have been something of a fog. I didn't have the stamina to complete a project so my house is littered with unfinished things. This made me sad and, let's face it, depressed, which contributes to the uneven sleeping. Everything accumulated making writing a chore. I just felt overwhelmed and unable to put thoughts to paper.

That being said, I've been working on a short story based on a writing prompt a friend gave me. She "double-dip dared" me to write a story around a silly Internet photo; a photo I had made an off-hand comment about. I know how the story ends. I just have to write the lines to that point. Now that the weather has moderated, it's inspiring to sit outside with my pen and write. I bought a journal to use for book quotes, but picked it up to use to tell this tale. It's probably a pedantic sort of tale, but I haven't done anything like this in years so it feels fresh and exciting.

I probably have 8 more hours of writing left to do. In true "Sagittarius mode", however, there are more shinies calling for my attention. That's what can overwhelm me and leave me feeling depressed. I love having projects to do, but completing them has always been a problem. The simple act of setting up the project is exhilarating to me. What do I want to do and what supplies will I need to accomplish this? But I get into the thing and have to set it aside because something else crops up, like the need to have clean underwear, and then I lose the drive to finish. It was extremely acute during April and, now, May. Then, I feel like I can't do anything and you see where this track goes. I'm ever so good at beating myself up.

The weather seems to have moderated now. I had a doctor visit last week where I poured out my frustrations and my rheumatologist was so understanding. She reminded me that living with RA means doing small tasks. "Just finish one thing and celebrate that; dishes, a load of laundry, pick up the living room so you don't see lots of piles." I got the oil changed and tires rotated. I spent 3 hours writing on the story; advancing the plot by leaps and bounds. I did a load of laundry and swept half of the floors. Just those things made me feel as if I could accomplish more.

Memorial Day weekend was a series of small victories which I'll detail below. Each step leads to another step which leads to a feeling of accomplishment. The business of business is still astonishingly hectic, but it appears, like the Tetris game, things are falling into place so I am not quite so overwhelmed. I still have to travel, but it's not in a rushing sort of way.

And then, as if to rubber stamp my sense of worth, I managed, for the first time in 3 months, to carve out time to go to cross-stitch club at the Wheaton Public Library. I haven't felt any inclination to do any stitching on the project since January because I've been coming back from somewhere on the day of the club. I stepped out of the house and headed to the car. There was a small rain shower going on. It wasn't much; more like the last bit of water was being shaken from the watering can. I got to the car and turned to slide in and saw this.

I do not remember when the last time was I saw a rainbow this brilliant. Look at the colors. You can see all of them; red, orange, yellow, green, indigo and violet. Excited, I quickly drove to the end of the drive, got out and aimed my ancient cell phone skyward.

Yes, please. I'll have a double helping of rainbow.

If you've followed me for some time you know I'm not a very God-y person anymore. I believe in an almighty, but I don't feel he pays too much attention to me; checking in on occasion, to see that I'm still hanging in there. Sometimes, he takes pity on me and things align, but most of the time, he smiles and moves on to someone with way more cares than I have. I don't want to make too much of a scientific occurrence, but I think this was nature's, karma's, "God's" way of telling me the storm has passed and, while things won't be smooth sailing, because, after all, it is raining, it won't be quite as bad as it has been these past 2 months. I've come through a choppy time and now there will be quieter seas ahead.

(On a strictly scientific note, I was quite surprised the rainbow was so vivid. We didn't get enough rain to wet the deck all over. It really was simply a sprinkle. Yet look at the colors, how clear and dramatic they are. Everything was at the right juncture to create this scene. Science is fascinating.)

So, dear reader, if you've progressed to the bottom of this post, I can't promise I will be as dedicated to this space as I was at the beginning of the year, but I have hundreds of photos I should blog about. It appears life is on the upswing. Things are, indeed, better. I have a double rainbow to prove it.

Beverage:  Earl Grey tea

Deb

Helping the Memory

It's hard, sometimes, not to feel my age. This is particularly true when the morning comes and I'm running late and I get half-way to the office and realize I don't have my meds with me. "I'll just take them when I get home," I think. More often than not, that doesn't happen. My inability to remember something so basic and so important can open the door to that little mocking voice we all have. "Boy are you OLD," it can say. "You can't remember something that important." And that's a spiral those of us who have existed with depression know all too well. That voice can be very, very hard to silence. When your health depends upon a regimen of pills and you forget them, the creaks and aches give that voice ammunition.

With a vacation away from the familiarity of my kitchen, where bottles are neatly stacked in the order in which I usually take them, I felt a slight fear. I really did not want to pack all the bottles of things I take. While it's not a pharmacy, it's more than two. The more I thought about this, the more anxious I became about forgetting to take something in the excitement of the vacation. In a flash of enlightenment, I thought about a pill box.

I put morning pills in the blue side and evening pills in the purple side. It worked like a charm. What day is it? Friday. Open that container. No bottles and the compartments snapped tight. I took everything when I had to take it and didn't forget anything. When I came home, I stuck this in the cupboard in the bathroom. It served its purpose and, it will travel with me whenever I go out of town, even if it's an overnight. No more lugging bottles.

Lately, I've been struggling with the winter blahs. It's manifested itself in forgetting to take my meds. I get up late and the dash out the door to get to work on time causes me to skip doses. Then I get down on myself. At the end of last month, I remembered this.

There were conversations with myself. I'm getting old if I admit that I can't remember to take my meds. That nagging voice started to overrule the gentle voice that reminded me why I take this stuff. But I went 4 days without taking my meds and I started to feel it. I need help to remind me. Out came the pill box.

So, for the last 2 weeks, I've carefully dropped the morning's pills into the blue side. I don't have much trouble with evening pills. They are taken on an "as needed" basis and I keep the bottles by the computer, where I tend to wind up at some point at the end of a day. I have the computer set up to send me an alert, too, when it's time to take the evening pills. The big issue is the morning doses. I pop open the top, put the pills in an empty bottle and bring the bottle with me to the office. I've been cutting time close lately so Dunkin' has been breakfast of late, something I need to cut back on. Chocolate donuts, while fun to eat, shouldn't be eaten daily. I don't close the top on the compartment until it's filled again.

I'm finding this method is helping me remember. I don't think there is anything wrong with my memory. I just let the negative voice drown out the positive voice. It's also winter and the cold and dark can be oppressive, sapping what little self-caring energy you have. I felt my internal 'ship', if you will, had tilted and was taking on water. This small step will right that ship and get me back on track. It's like the cleaning I've been doing after reading the tidying up book. Things have to be done in small steps. I can do this in small steps.

Beverage:  Raspberry Seltzer

Deb

"Now is the August of my discontent"

In this soliloquy, which begins Shakespeare's "Richard III", he talks about the reversal of his family's fortunes. "Now is the winter of our discontent" is the exact line. "Winter" in this case, meaning the end of problems. We all know how the play, and the real life Richard the III's, life ended.

It's been a bad month for me. "Discontent" in all it's glorious meaning, is the perfect word to describe this month. So many days have slipped away. So many photos unblogged. There is, however, a reason. I came down with diverticulitis.

On August 1st, I went shopping with Pam. We had a glorious day of laughter and friendship, as we usually do. The next day, I thought I'd eaten something bad. It continued into Monday, August 3rd. I felt like I had the flu. Lots of sleep and on Tuesday, August 4th, I was tired, but I felt reasonably fine. That "reasonably fine" feeling grew ever more tenuous. It seems as if every other day was a bad day. Pain. Excessive tiredness. I felt like my abdomen was full of gas. "If I could just fart, I'd feel better," I would say as a wave of pain overtook me. Finally, self-treating didn't seem to be working and I went to the doctor on August 12th.

I was put on Cipro and Flagyl, two strong antibiotics. One of the problems with an infection is my compromised immune system thanks to the RA. I had to go off all my RA meds and carefully watch when I took my vitamins because they would counteract the Cipro. Unfortunately, one of the side effects of these two antibiotics and going off the RA drugs has been incredible tiredness. I finally gave up trying to remember when I took the Cipro so I could take the vitamins. Even little notes to myself would leave me perplexed. "Why does this say 8:10 and this one say 8:35?" Confusion is a side effect, too. I took to walking around the house with a note pad and pen, writing down what I was trying to remember. This went beyond the "Why did I come into this room?" This was an "I have no idea what I'm doing" memory issue.

Blogging was impossible. I tried, oh how I tried. There are a large number of photos to talk about. A month of photos has come and gone without a comment. I have missed me.

It took 5 days for the pain to subside. I've been off both drugs now since Saturday. I'm still tired, but I know that to be the cost of RA. I'm having twinges of pain in joints that were pain-free just a month ago. Heck, I was reveling in being pain-free. I need to mow the lawn now, after a month of not needing to do it. The idea now scares me. It won't be a 45 minute exercise. I may not be able to do it in one day. I feel I've been sent to jail and I have no "Get out free" card.

Through all of this, I've kept working. The pain wasn't so bad during the day that it interfered with work. It only got bad when I went home at night. I have been lectured about taking time for me. Perhaps I should have. I guess I'm of the mind-set that sick days are for when you're really sick and I wasn't into what I'd call "really sick" state. I did think I'd take this or that day off and then work would get crazy and I'd feel that I'd really inconvenience the office if I called off, so I didn't.

Depression set in. I have stuff all over my house, piles of stuff. I deal with a little bit but I wear out so quickly, that things don't get done and the knowledge that, just last month, none of this wouldn't be put away, mocks me. Even though part of learning to live with RA involves breaking tasks down into smaller, more manageable pieces, when I can't clean all the litter boxes because just doing one leaves me tired, that's minute pieces and even though that's what I should be doing, it depresses me when I can't do more without pain (because I'm off my RA meds) or getting overly tired.

There is a silver lining in all of this. My rheumatologist wants to change my RA medication. She feels the Humira was not stopping the progression of the disease. I measure progression by days without pain and I had a handful in July, before the diverticulitis. She measures it in a different way. So, having to go off all RA meds is good for her because we can go back to tweaking them. She wants to start me on Orencia, another injectable biologic drug. Unlike Enbrel and Humira, it's used only for RA. We're going to see if that helps. I'm not noticing any deformities in joints and, prior to getting sick, I could do a lot of things I hadn't considered before. I have another appointment for the diverticulitis on September 2nd and we'll go from there.

All of this has worn me down. I'm not eating properly or drinking adequate amounts of water. Pam had to come to my "rescue" and get me to Target to buy groceries so I would have things in the house I'd actually eat. Soup is my friend, but there are days when even that looks unappealing. I know this is a side effect and part of my brain says, "You need to eat." But the louder part says, "Shut up. She's tired. Go ahead. Sleep in the recliner." And, lately, that sleep in the recliner has involved a cat scan.

It's kind of hard to see her, but she loves to stretch out in my lap. When we sit, we can sit for upwards of 2 hours. If only the purrs of a cat would cure what ails me. Mija will often jump up next to me and demand ear scratches. With the two of them next to me, I can almost forget this set back.

It feels like I'm going up hill through molasses. I keep telling myself that the aches and pains are old familiar territory. I'm not nearly as bad as I was in 2012, when I first saw Dr. Francis and, once we get the infection cured, I'll be back on the drugs that help with the pain. Things will be back to "normal", or what passes for normal. It's just getting there that is the depressing part.

Beverage:  Water

Deb

It's Not Really a Cure

I've mentioned how, on occasion, I endure some minor bouts of depression. I'm not as bad as some people I know who really have that hard mistress, as I like to think of her, living with them. I struggle with it, but can usually find something, after a few days, to lift my spirits. It's been rough for me, for about a week now.

It's hard to say what triggers the arrival of the mistress. I think this time it was all the walking that I've had to do to complete an inspection job. I'm not done with it either and there's at least a half-day's worth of walking yet to do before I'm done.

I still don't have a clue on my bodily limits as I deal with RA. Some days, I don't do as much as I could and then feel badly because things aren't done at the end of a day. The next day, I feel exactly the same and I am completely spent from doing half as much as I did the day before. There seems to be no rhyme or reason to my endurance or lack thereof. I did great on Sunday. I moved slowly and I recognized that by the time I got to the sub shop to pick up lunch, that was going to be it. I don't feel nearly as achy in the body today, but walking down the hall to my boss's office is tiring me out. This is depressing.

Part of depression is the levels of serotonin in your brain. As I looked back over the last 10 days, I felt, yesterday, that perhaps my serotonin levels weren't high. Hence, in addition to just feeling crummy because my joints ache, I might be having a chemical issue. Well, what raises serotonin? Chocolate. There's my temporary answer.

I realized I haven't had chocolate anything in over 10 days. I think I do best when I have something chocolate at least every other day. So, on the way home, I stopped at Walgreens and picked up the assortment you see here. This is not a cure. If you know anything about depression, it's really not something that gets "cured" as you would cure a cold. You learn what triggers your depression and you learn the ways you can get out of it or, at the very least, manage it. Sometimes, that includes medication and/or therapy. I've done the therapy but never the medication, unless you want to consider chocolate my medication.

I dived into the Oreos when I got home. That was all I ate for supper last night. I had Oreos and milk, Oreos and cranberry grape juice and Oreos and tea. There was a brief moment where the nutrition fairy alighted on my shoulder and said, "Um...you gonna eat the whole bag? You know that's not good for you." Nutritionally, no. Eating half a bag of Oreos cannot, in any way, shape or form, be considered a "good dietary choice". But I'm not looking at my diet. I'm looking at my mood. If a $3.00 bag of Oreos gets my mood back where it should be, then that's what I'm going to do.

I could be deluding myself, but I did feel better about 9 p.m. last night. Yes, I ate half the bag. The M&Ms are untouched but are there for the rest of the week. A couple handfuls of them per day and I'll be on an even keel in no time. Things won't seem so oppressive even when I move slower than molasses, uphill, in January. Hmmmmm, molasses. I read where that's a help for RA. I like molasses. I think some tests are in order.

Beverage:  Dunkin' Donuts tea

Deb

Another Outdoor Project

Behind the house, next to the deck and the air conditioning unit, is a large flower bed. It used to, when we moved here ages ago, have peonies in it. But I didn't like peonies so close to the house. Peonies need ants to help them blossom and I could just see the problems that would create. So, we dug up the peonies. That allowed some tulips which had been buried by the peony bushes to blossom. The area was flowers for awhile and then a small garden when the garden I had at the back of the property got to be too much of a chore.

But, gradually, as my ability to pull weeds and kneel to dig in the dirt became restricted, I fell into a depression about the state of the lawn and the gardens. Weeds and volunteer trees overtook sections of gardens and just grew. Occasionally, I would make an effort to clear something but I tend to look at the huge picture, which makes me very depressed at all that should be done. Instead of breaking things down into, "Do this much today", it becomes, "I'll never get this cleared so why bother?" The futility of doing everything becomes the futility of doing everything and I give up before I even start.

In the glorious warmth that was March, Zeke came over and cleared the yard of winter debris in anticipation of having to start mowing earlier than he expected. One of the things he did was clear the trees behind the house.

I had trimmed back some branches last July, branches that were over the AC and over the deck. Zeke took it one further and really cleared things out. I have this amazing sundial which has always sat behind the house. It was a Mother's Day present some 25 years ago.

Of course, every spring and fall it has to be adjusted so it tells the correct time, but it was buried in the brush. Zeke cleared the trees down to trunks. All I had to do was go out with my Round-Up and spray the trunks. Round-Up will kill the tree trunks and, probably next year, they can be removed much easier.

Well, the weather being what it was, I couldn't get out there to spray. You need 2 days above 60 and without rain. April and May were cool and wet. Trash trees, as we call them, being the opportunistic plants that they are, regrew. The back looks like this now.

Now, I can, very easily, get depressed, throw up my hands and decide I'm terrible; beyond terrible, horrible, awful, for not spraying these back when Zeke had so meticulously cleared the area. That little voice has been sitting on my shoulder scolding me this week when I've come home and watched the trees reclaim the space in this heat. They love it. I feel miserable looking at this and thinking of how it could have looked had the weather cooperated and I had gotten right on it.

I'm going to fight this. First order of business is to get the front steps painted. Then, I will sharpen the loppers, haul the Round-Up up from the basement and get to work on pruning things back and spraying. I've been telling myself, "Baby steps. It's like a cross-stitch. Each section contributes to the whole but you don't work the whole thing at once. Baby steps." It's going to be a perfect weekend to reclaim bits of my space.

Beverage:  English Breakfast tea

Deb

Update on Gratitude

It's been 6 months now, since I made the decision to embrace gratitude. At this point, I should step back and see whether this has worked.

My resolution was to be grateful, every day, for something. It started out easy. I was grateful for a break in the heavy traffic on Roosevelt Road going by the office so I could safely make a left turn to go home. I was grateful for food, for clean clothes, for a job. I was grateful for my cats, for a day without bills, for friends who emailed or even wrote letters.

If you've been reading this space for awhile, you know my mobility gradually declined over the winter. I found myself wrestling with the fear of a snowfall that locked me in and the inability to dig myself out. That was a test of being grateful. I found myself chasing away the fear by being grateful for warmth and Oberwies delivery of ice cream and a job that I had to get out of bed to go to.

I realized, as I worked to ready the house for Carole and David's visit, that the "wouldda's", "shoudda's", "couldda's" don't come to me as much as they used to. I find myself consciously saying, "Be grateful for x" when things seem overwhelming. I am still my own worse critic and that nagging voice that tells me how I have failed can be in my ear at the worst times. I can still get down over little things, things that, once the low point as passed, look silly for being magnified as much as I did.

Depression still lingers, but I find myself more even. There have been some real lows and an acquaintance doing some real damage to my self-esteem. But, unconsciously, I found myself rallying around the "Be grateful for ... " mantra I tried to burn into my brain back in January. Do I wish things were different? Of course I do. I don't, however, spend days dwelling on how bad things are. Even at the depths of the inability to be very mobile, I found myself saying, "I am grateful I can still do cross-stitch."

Most days, I don't even think about choosing to be grateful. I think I can safely say I've made it part of my life. Some days, I have to tell myself to make a grateful choice. I think that's the way it is when you're undoing a mindset you've been decades cultivating. I often don't even notice the choice until I find myself taking a deep breath in the midst of turmoil and saying, "But I am grateful that I have this. Life is good."

Today, I am grateful for sunshine and clouds and leftovers and reports that keep me occupied and a job and a car to get to that job and cats waiting for me to come home. And I'm grateful for you, reading this, that you care to come to my little space to see what I'm up to.

Thank you.

Beverage:  African Rooibos tea

Deb

New Year, New Resolution

I come from a different time. When I was growing up, the day after Christmas was spent around the kitchen table, thank you cards spread out amongst us, pen and pencils at the ready, mom and her address book and a sheet of paper with what everyone got and who gave it to them. By December 28th, everyone had been thanked, in writing, and that thank you was in the mail, heading to the gifter. I learned how to be thankful for socks and shirts as well as for toys. Someone chose to select something for you and you needed to express your gratitude for their time and effort, even if you hated the socks Aunt Irene sent you.

This post is not about the decline in saying "thank you". I could go off, happily, down that road, but the end result would be to make people feel either guilty, resentful, annoyed or vindicated. This post is about gratitude and looking toward a new year.

As my marriage crumbled, I took a job in a bookstore. It was 2 days a week, sometimes on Saturday or Sunday afternoon. The owner was someone I'd known for several years prior to her buying the place. I hated retail and it's still not my favorite profession, but I needed a job, she knew it, and I grew into the position. One thing I took from those years of working there was how Jane always thanked us for anything we did, anything. It was just natural for her to say, "Thank you" when you did something, even if she didn't know it needed to be done. I learned from that and I try to incorporate "thank you" into my every day life.

We don't say it enough to the people around us. A simple "thank you" can make someone's day. Judging by the look on someone's face when I say it, people don't hear it enough. I'm not sure it's a phrase that can be overused. This got me to thinking about my life and the ways I express thanks.

You've been with me this long so you know the story of the past 2 years. It's been tough. It's always a balancing act when I would like to just get off the balance beam for a change. I'd just like a month where nothing breaks or needs money thrown at it. I'd just like a month where, "Gee, I'd like to go see the Muppet Movie" becomes a hop in the car and head over there instead of a "Can I afford it?" or "What do I give up so I can do x?"

The more I thought about this, the more I realized that perhaps my perception is wrong. My focus shouldn't be on what I don't have, but on what I do have. Interesting concept, no?

I'm sure you've seen the stories in some media where someone has just lost something precious. My thoughts reference the homes lost to tornadoes last year. Invariably, someone is interviewed who says, "God is good." I've met people, low income people, living in what I wouldn't come near, without a job and a sick husband and a pregnant daughter who already has 3 kids, all stuffed into this house next to a noisy road under construction and they say, "God is good." I have wondered, "How can God be good when all around you is pain?"

It's gratitude. It's because of their perspective. From where they stand, they have something to be grateful for, be it their lives or being surrounded by people they love or whatever. This isn't about the proverbial glass being half-full or half-empty. This is about something deeper. This is about being grateful there is even a glass. ...grateful there is even a glass...

This concept dawned on me right before Christmas and I've been stewing about it since. What if I changed my whole perception? What if, instead of ruing what I don't have, I'm grateful for what I do have? What if I'm grateful there is even a glass?

I live with depression. It's a constant companion. Sometimes I can see her reflected in the bathroom mirror. She might leave for a bit but she comes back. She insists I haul her around. She makes me tired. She makes me weary. She makes me long for things to "be better". She reminds me that I fail. She makes me not get the things done that I want to get done. She's always there. But, she's not around when, in those few fleeting moments I'm clear headed, I am grateful for something, something simple. She doesn't know how to behave when I'm grateful, when I feel gratitude for life and what I have. She has to leave and think about a different way to keep me in check.

So, all this leads to my New Year's Resolution for 2012. I'm not going to read half the stack of magazines on the ottoman. I'm not going to read 6 books this year, lose 50 pounds, exercise more, eat vegetables or take up daily walks. I might do those just because they are there. I'm going to practice gratitude. I'm going to, every day, when the negative thoughts close in around me, consciously be grateful that I have clothes to wear, a house to sleep in, cats to love me, food on my table, a sunny day, a break in traffic to make a left turn, 2 hours without the phone ringing so I could blog instead. I'm going to, consciously, seek out things for which I am grateful.

This is complete attitude adjustment. I have no illusions that this will be easy. I am my own worse critic and it is very, very, very, easy; did I mention how easy it is; to get down on myself for anything. I will fall and, right now, I'm dealing with the pain in my hands and how it slows and prohibits what I can do. I must find things to be grateful for even as my hands hurt.

I feel, deep down inside me, that changing my outlook to reflect being grateful is the best gift I can give myself in 2012.

Beverage:  English Breakfast tea

Deb

Another Surprise

I'm feeling low, lower than low, actually. I'm throwing a pity party for myself. I've had Leslie Gores' "It's My Party (And I'll Cry if I Want to)" stuck in my head since leaving the doctor yesterday. Funny how that works.

Pam and I had a lot of catching up to do so she took me to supper last night. That helped make me feel better because she has similar problems. Here are two middle-aged ladies comparing knee problems over burgers at Red Robin. That's comical in its own right. It lifts my sagging spirits somewhat and then I have to get out of her car and climb the steps into my home. Yes. This is why I'm depressed, when it takes me twice as long to get into my house as it did in February when there was all that snow.

There had been, in the mail on Tuesday, an envelope addressed to me, no return address and a Chicago postmark. I've seen this before as in an anonymous benefactor sending a Target gift card. But, I have been doing okay for myself, although my math skills this month left something to be desired. The computer calculator is correct but if you punch in the wrong numbers, you're not going to get the most accurate result. Another thing to depress me.

I didn't open the envelope right away. I had to make supper, a new manicotti recipe that, while fast to assemble is below average in taste. It did make a lot so I will have suppers and lunch for the next couple of days. I think the addition of garlic will make it better, but I am not saving this recipe. It's a dud.

Once the manicotti was cooking, I sat down and opened the envelope. I was expecting an invitation to something as the envelope is that size. I couldn't think what I'd be invited to, but maybe it would be something I'd consider attending. Inside was the usual yellow legal paper carefully enclosing a $50 Visa gift card.

I am humbled by this generosity. It's been a rough month but I have survived. I was worried about getting the next batch of medication and here arrives the means to get it. My friend, Patt, recommended a knee pillow she says you can get at the pharmacy which will keep your knees apart. If it's not too expensive, it's worth a shot, to see if it will help me fall asleep and stay asleep. Mija would probably appreciate not being kicked or crushed when I toss and turn.

It's uncanny to me how whomever this is seems to know right when I could use this. I sat in the recliner on Tuesday evening, turning it over in my hands just grateful for this person. I used to want to know who they were but I've decided I don't need to. I could not give them any kind of reciprocation in kind and I think the giving is, for them, the best part. My hope is that if my ship ever comes in, I can do for someone else what they have done for me.

I decided that I needed to do for me today, something to lift my spirits. I hobbled over to the grocery at lunch and got myself a salad. I have 1 apple and 2 potatoes at home. The potatoes are destined for a corn, bacon and potato chowder recipe I found. It's to rain all weekend. This is the perfect time for soup. The apple will be added to oatmeal apple cinnamon muffins once I get all the dishes finished from the weekend. I just can't do everything in one fell swoop. I have to do some and do another bit the next day. I can't stand and this, of course, depresses me. I felt a salad off the Dominicks salad bar would be healthy and would lift my spirits. I also got a couple bagels and a box of cereal since there is one serving of Cheerios left.

Yes, there were impulse purchases. I got apple cider. Perhaps that is better for me than a 2 liter of Dr Pepper. It's going to make the house smell better, that's for sure. Drat. I don't have an orange to make mulled cider. No matter. Warmed cider in the microwave will be just as lovely. And, to feed the depression, I got a bag of chocolate Oreos. No finger wagging at me. I'm female. I'm depressed. Eating is what makes it sort of better.

Best use of a gift card? Well, maybe not the Oreos but the salad has cheered me up a bit and the idea that I have cereal for next week is another cheer. I'm looking forward to warm apple cider this weekend.

Thank you whomever is doing this or to the maybe more than one person who bestows this blessing on me. Your kindness cheers me as I try to shake off this weight that is depression. I am ever so grateful to you.

Beverage:  Scottish Blend tea

Deb

Avoid Stairs

After taking the Meloxicam all summer, I have seen a small improvement in my hands. But my knees...

It's incredibly painful to stand up and sit down. I'm not sleeping well because I fall asleep on my side and trying to find a comfortable position when my knees hurt sometimes means I toss and tossing is painful. I am close to being out of the Meloxicam, so I called my doctor who decided I should see an orthopedic doctor just to rule out anything. That appointment was this morning.

I don't have pain when I sit. I don't have much pain when I'm up and moving around but I do have to watch how I move. My knees hurt, a lot, last night, from standing in the kitchen making dinner. Those little sideways movements we all do when we turn from the counter to the stove, cause shooting pain through the knee. I cannot move anything near "fast" and even "slow" might be pushing it.

And, I'm having problems with my hands. I feel my fingers look swollen. I get shooting pain below each thumb and the middle finger on each hand aches. I'll get cramping in my right hand from working with the computer mouse. I don't have a problem with my counted cross-stitch or my sewing, but I don't feel I have strength in my hands anymore to pick up, hold and grab heavier items.

I took all of this to the doctor today, along with the medications I take and my x-rays. He had me do a number of tests for range of motion and for strength. I was certain a couple of the ways he would bend my knees was going to hurt. It didn't.

At the end of this, it's not arthritis. The arthritis the radiologist thought he saw is an "artifact" on the x-ray and not evidence of it. So, I don't have arthritis, at least, not yet. I am susceptible to it and will probably get it eventually, but I don't have it right now.

What I have is severe trauma to the cartilage in my hands and knees from when I fell. That cartilage was injured. It wasn't torn. It was bruised and the underlying bones were also bruised. This cartilage is also not as fat and thick as it was 20 years ago so it will take a long time for it to heal.

He was empathetic to my mobility loss but there isn't really anything that can be done. Stretching exercises will make sure the muscles stay limber. Time is all I have to work with here. This is good, kind of. It won't take surgery or anything invasive. This is bad because it's just going to take time. I guess I have spent 3 months in pain what's a few more.

He said the natural things I've found to treat arthritis won't hurt me. They may help and there is nothing wrong with eating jell-o every day. I must avoid stairs if possible, he said. Those few stairs, such as the ones going into my house, I need to take slowly. The washer is in the basement. Once I get to the bottom of the stairs, I can load up the machine and hang up the wash when it's done. I looked at what I have waiting to be washed and it's one load of darks. Once or twice a week up and down the stairs I can do, otherwise, I am to avoid all stairs.

I'm depressed. This weighs me down. It feels as if I have lost 50% mobility. I don't go anywhere without considering whether I can sit. If I need to stand, can I do it for only an hour, maybe 90 minutes, before finding a place to sit down? I feel as if I've lost 75% hand strength. I can sort of cope with the hand thing. I use two hands to move things where I used to use one. There is no gardening unless I can stand but I've had problems grasping things and pulling. I don't have the hand strength.

Was the appointment worth it? Yes, it was. There is no expensive procedure in my future. I don't have any underlying disease. He looked over the blood work done back in June and I don't have diabetes or signs of rheumatoid arthritis. I don't have carpal tunnel. I just have a body that was involved in a tough fall. My age is what works against me in the healing process.

But it doesn't make me feel better knowing this is the way it is. I already feel isolated just because of my life and my lack of finances. The inability to move about more freely isolates me more. I don't want to drive anywhere. It hurts. I can't do for myself what I've always been able to do.

Life goes on and I'll deal with it as best I can.

Beverage:  Blackberry tea

Deb

It was depressing.

Yesterday, Pam and I headed into the grand world of retail to start the process of finding me a dress to wear to Carole and David's wedding. (I'm going to call it a wedding even though they are married because it's just easier.) I had an idea in my head, a vision of what I thought I wanted. In a previous entry, I posted photos from the Alfred Angelo web site, showing Mother-of-the-Bride dresses which could come in exactly the same green as the bridesmaid's dresses. 

That's really not what I wanted. It's not my day. The day "belongs", if you will, to Carole and David. I'm there as their guest and, although I have a huge tie to the day, it wouldn't be good to dress like the attendants. I think Miss Manners would be shocked and/or aghast. But, those dresses I liked were the foundation for the search.

Should we go to a fabric store first or go to ready-made? I decided to try to find something ready-made, for no other reason that to see if a certain cut would look good on me. Off to Oakbrook Center and Macy's.

To say it was depressing is a huge understatement. Are we too early in finding spring wear? I know Easter is late this year, but there was nothing, nothing, on the racks for "mature" women. Macy's, Von Maur, JC Penney. A lot of stuff on sale but nothing that was even remotely useful. If I was age 2, I could find all sorts of spring dresses. At age 54, my choices were limited to black, periwinkle or plum. Not for a wedding in May.

I know it's just me but some things defied description.  Someone, somewhere thinks this is gorgeous. No, it wasn't even gorgeous when it first came out in 1963.

Need to be seen when walking somewhere. I have the perfect sweater or jacket for you.

The jacket was so red, my camera couldn't capture its true red-ness. Trust me on this. I love bright colors. I like red, but, ouch.

In my mind's eye, I saw a jacket, maybe solid color, over a simple sheath in a green floral. This would compliment the wedding party. Or, if I could find an unusual jacket, I could go with a solid color simple dress, "A" line or princess styling. This is a hugely important day but I really didn't want to spend a ton of money since I don't have a lot to start with. The last time I bought a dress was when my mother turned 70, 5 years ago. I just don't wear dresses. I have no place I go that requires a dress.

Oh look, Pam! Here's something in a green sort-of floral.

What are people wearing on their winter cruises? I remember, in years past, flowery prints and patterns in light-weight fabrics could be found at this time of year. I must have missed the memo on how we are all dressing in black and eschewing color for any celebration.

"I bet you could find something online." That's not the point. I want to check fit and whether the color looks good on me and I DON'T want to have to send it back. That is beyond annoying. I want to get it right the first time, even if that involves multiple trips to various locations over a number of Saturdays.

So, we headed off to lunch feeling quite defeated. I guess I'm showing my age. Other than saying, "Oh my god. Who wears this stuff?" and ruling out ruching and jersey knit, we accomplished nothing in the morning.

I did find something I would wear, just not to a wedding. Oh yeah. I would wear this jacket. Loud, crazy, unique, yup. It's a great spring and fall jacket.

But, it was not on sale and I won't pay $250 for a jacket not even one this cool.

Beverage:  Scottish Blend tea

Deb

It is what it is.

This will be something of a rant. If you are one of the people who responded to my Facebook post with what I am about to discuss, I am sorry if I offend you. I think you don't mean to not understand, but you don't and I'm going to try to help you understand.

The Jeep is not well. As I said yesterday, the brake light came on. They fixed the flat and did the oil change and then tried to determine why the brake light came on. They discovered there was no brake fluid. None. How I was able to continue to stop, they have no clue. I admit that the brakes felt a little "slow" but I also know that it's been awhile since I had any brake work done so I felt maybe things were out of alignment or something.

Secondly, there was little coolant in the reservoir. There had been a leak last year, but I had refilled the reservoir twice and it was fine. I do admit to not checking after April, but I didn't notice anything awry.

My mechanic flat out told me, even raising his voice at me, that the car was not safe to drive particularly because of the no brake fluid issue. Without knowing where the leak is, because he said it never just evaporates, they could not guarantee I would have brakes to get home or get back to them, even though they refilled the brake fluid. The master cylinder on the right side was rusted so they couldn't take that off to see if the leak was in there. They sprayed it with goop and hoped by today, they could get it open.

It was way after 5:30, by the time they explained the problems to me. I had no money on me for a taxi. I desperately wanted to drive my car, but felt that knowing what the problem was would make me really nervous. My mechanic is a good 6 miles from my house, but I honestly thought of walking home. I could have walked to Pam's, I realize, in the light of morning. But, last night, I wasn't thinking particularly clear. As it was, Debbie from the shop, gave me a ride home.

I have reviewed my finances, indeed, I did that repeatedly over the course of the evening. I have $400 in hand for repairs. Anything more would have to come on Friday when I get my paycheck. Anything more cuts dramatically into available funds to pay my bills. This then digs the hole deeper.

Several well-meaning friends have said, "Gee Deb. It's time for a new car." If you have been a long time reader, you are, or should be, aware that money is beyond tight. I have friends who know this all too well from their life situation. First of all, I would need a trade in. According to the Kelly Blue Book online, my Jeep would fetch me $2500. I have no additional funds, short of taking more from my meager retirement account, to contribute to this. Second, I cannot, absolutely cannot, have car payments. I missed paying my Discover bill this month. It got stuck in with a letter from a charity I would love to support, but cannot. Therefore, I have service charges and a double payment to make on that. I knew, at the end of last month, I couldn't pay it when I did my bills but I could have paid it on time later in the month, had I not screwed up the filing of my bills to keep things in order. A newer car is out of the question. Period.

And what do I do about just the run-of-the-mill life things? I was going to go grocery shopping. I can't. What if my car just simply isn't fixable? I can walk to work every day. It's a little over 2 miles one way. The "rules" for working here are that you must have a working vehicle. Would I lose my job because I am out a vehicle? Not likely, but I would be told to get a car as soon as possible. I would have to rent and that gets back to having no funds in the first place. It would be a bit before I could get a working vehicle and that assumes they would take the Jeep in trade. If not, I have to junk it and then can only spend what the salvage value is.

I know you mean well when you say, "Time for a new car", but you don't seem to understand the reality of my situation. Maybe my house of cards would have collapsed over the winter anyway, but 5th 3rd blew it all in back in October and knocked down in April what I had worked to repair. I have my last anti-inflammatory pill for tomorrow. I will be back to no money for the co-pay on the doctor visits. If my shoulder acts up, well, it acts up. I currently have kitty litter and cat food. They will be fed before me. I will go without. I need to scrape up some money to pay Zeke for mowing the lawn. Thankfully, he understands I don't want putting green looking so he only mows it when it gets shaggy. I currently owe him $50. I will pay him before paying someone else.

It is what it is. If I needed an impetus for stopping the paper, this is it. That money can be used elsewhere. Plus, a friend called last night and has offered to save her papers and I can get them once a week. My game, where I tried to lose myself and not think of things but failed last night, is paid up through October. I need to pay for Internet access so I can still play it so that is high on the pay priority. To say that I spent quite a bit of last night in tears is a slight understatement. Carole called with a car suggestion which we will investigate. She was upbeat where I was not.

"It always works out, mom." I wish I could share her optimism. I kept telling myself that worry wouldn't make anything better. I know this but it's impossible to keep that wolf at bay. Another friend suggested selling stuff I don't want on eBay. I would need dedicated help to get that going and the chances of me selling enough stuff to make it worthwhile are slim. I have a couple of other avenues to explore.

My water bill went up $1.40 per month and my house payment did its ever escalating climb due to higher taxes. That's an additional $59 a month, not to mention I skipped June's payment in an attempt to get caught up. I was able to get close, but not close enough. Now, I have that to make up. And because I can't pay everything on time, there are the service charges.

I don't splash this on my blog to elicit pity or even ask for help. It is what it is. I have learned to simply be in the moment. The worry that I won't be able to pay for whatever repairs they attempt is real but it is what it is. I will simply have to do the best I can.

Please don't tell me I need a new car. I need a lot of things. I'm really, really low on hope and optimism and if you can tell me where to find those items free, I would be grateful. I let my "luck journal" lapse back in May so I resumed that last night only to remind myself that in spite of things looking very bad right now, I do have small pieces of luck. The basement was 95% dry this morning. That is one good way to start out the day.

Beverage: Scottish Blend tea

Deb

It's just, "meh".

I've been wrestling with this for some time. It's a feeling, just a general feeling, but it has colored a lot of what I do.

I feel "meh". That currently cultural definition of "the blues" or "blah" seems to convey exactly what I'm feeling.

I've gone from the frantic "How will I survive?" of winter and spring to a "yeah, well, that's how it is" of summer and beyond. The new checking and savings accounts are up and running. I've used the online bill pay system and it's nice and I probably could see using that in the future. My expense check is not getting direct deposited into the new account and that's supposed to be resolved this week. Once everything is going to the new accounts, I can close out the 5th 3rd accounts, walk out the door and shake the dust from my feet. They actually worked with me to form a payment plan on my remaining credit so it doesn't impact my ability to eat. In fact, all but one company has been very good about the situation.

Bank of America refuses to put me in any kind of payment plan unless and until I give them a complete financial history with account numbers. I have to give them a list of everything I spend my money on during a month so they can "assess" which of their programs is right for me. Nope. We go 'round and 'round every week on this. I don't believe they need all that personal information and I have absolutely no guarantees it won't be accessed improperly or used against me. "You have my word, ma'am," is not enough. And they won't put anything in writing for me to look at what they have to offer. They will make the decision and enroll me. I realize these people are doing their job and parroting what they are being told to say, but am I alone in thinking this has red flags and warning buzzers all over it? BoA received millions, maybe billions, in government bailout money. I don't trust them as far as I can throw them.

So, they call and I tell them what I can do and they tell me that's not enough and I shrug and say, "Well, that's what I got" and they tell me the calls will continue until I pay some outrageous sum and I tell them that I will pay them once a month and it will be x and if I had more, I'd pay more. 5th 3rd finally came around and sent me information on their payment plans so I could assess what was good for me. BoA may never but I'm doing the best I can. I know that and I'm comfortable with what I have done.

I'm not blah about that. It is what it is and I can't change it. I had another article purchased yesterday so there's another $10 coming soon. I have 2 more to write. I'm working on the end of that guild novel, but I have hit a dry patch in words. I don't like forcing the words to come because they are never, ever as good as the words that just flow. So, I've set that aside for now. I need to get from the end of Chapter 14 to where I am now and I think that's at least 4 or 5 more chapters.

I'm seeing a lot of friends and family get engaged and start planning weddings. I listen to the excited tales of searching for reception halls and dresses and caterers and photographers. I'm happy for them and I wish their impending marriage is one for life.

I have several married friends going through rough patches right now due to job loss. I listen to the tales of frustration at the spouse and at life. I see my job getting busier; I have overtime in the next couple of days to get work done; and I hope my company's upturn in business translates into jobs for my friends. I listen. I ask questions. I make suggestions if it seems a suggestion on a different POV or something else to do instead of yell at one another is in order. I can't help thinking, "I know it's tough and I know there are days you just want them to hop into their car and drive away and never come back, but you have someone you love and you need to remember that." I come home to two cats and a stack of dishes or laundry and the absence of another human in my home.

It's not that.

And I don't want pity nor do I want people not to share things with me. I just feel blah. It's not the pothole that I talked of earlier in the month. This feels like this photo to the left. I'm driving along Interstate 80 in the early part of the salt flats. It's miles and miles of same.

I try to be open to whatever life sends my way. I want to "be in the moment", to use a trite aphorism. It's hard, some days, to force myself to do things I know I have to do. I don't want to balance my checkbook. I don't want to clean the tub. I don't want to wash the rugs. I sleep, a lot, it seems. Even the game is not as exciting as it was. I still like to play it, but everything is "meh" and I find myself getting irritated with things I shouldn't be irritated at.

I know that lifting myself out of the "mehs" is my responsibility. I cannot rely on anyone else to do that work. I need to figure out what I can do to raise my spirits and change it from "meh" to "yeah". So that's why posts have not been regular. I feel "meh" and, although I'm trying to do something about it, it's a struggle.

Beverage: Chocolate Hazelnut tea

Deb

The Evil Eye

I am trying to be optimistic about this whole financial mess.

I had to go back to the bank yesterday because the promised phone call regarding the exorbitant fees tacked onto my account had not materialized and I gave them an extra day. Plus, when I went to log onto my account online, I was denied. That was frustration and a half.

The screen said to create a new password. Okay, that I can accept. I attempted to do that and was told to call a toll free number. Call the toll free number and get the English or Spanish option. Then get "Enter your account number or your Social Security number." I entered my account number and got a repeat of the sentence. I did this for 15 minutes, hanging up and trying again with either the account number or my Social Security number.

In frustration, I found another toll free number and called that. I did get through to an operator that time. I explain I was having problems and could she transfer me or was there another number I could call. She informed me I had to call the previous number. I explained I'd been doing this for 15 minutes. I understood she couldn't help me but could she send my call somewhere else or give me another number. No. I had to call the original number. Again I explained the problem and when she told me yet again, that I had to call the original number, I asked to speak to a supervisor. She told me to call the first number and hung up on me. No, I didn't get her name because I was, at this point, nearly in tears.

So, yesterday, armed with times and a list of everything I have done, I went back to the bank and talked to the man who, it turns out, is at the top of the food chain at this branch. I told him exactly what I did, what number I called and what happened. He called the same number I did and got the same voice prompt. "Oh well, you have to dial..." I forget what number it is, to get out of that circle. It's not explained. There is zero explanation on the phone system.

I told him that's horrible customer service. As a customer, I wouldn't know to push that number because that's NOT what the message says. He knows because he works there.

He looked at my account. He had to do a great deal of manipulation of the account numbers to get into the screen that shows my accounts. I have a temporary number until this mess gets sorted out, but he got in and wrote everything down for me.

That's when he noticed the Mastercard account, the one they screwed up on the online payment for, had been closed. I received no notice that this was going to happen. He said that's against the law, first of all and secondly, I should have received a letter AND a phone call from a live person. So, he showed me the protest email he was sending.

Then there is the matter of the fees attached to my checking account. I came, yesterday, with the letters telling me I needed to make the account positive, you know, the ones I didn't get until 4 days AFTER I was supposed to fix this. He looked them over and admitted the letters were confusing because they are system generated and not in chronological order. I should have received a phone call from a live person. I've only received these calls that tell me to go online, which I couldn't, to see what the problem was. Again, he showed me the protest email he was sending up the food chain.

Unfortunately, the review of my account could take "5 to 7 business days" and I protested last Thursday. I told him I have been unable to pay any bills because I have no idea how much money is in my account. I will have to call other credit card companies and explain the problem so additional fees won't get attached to those accounts. So, far, that has gone well. It takes longer than expected to get through the explanations so I have missed a couple cards that are on the east coast. Fortunately, I don't have much so it's not a stack. It's just embarrassing to have to explain this every single time. Mr. manager said he would ask that a decision be expedited.

So, here we come to the weekend. I have a check from liquid funds that I could deposit or start a new account. I really don't want the hassle of a new account, but this is beyond ridiculous. I am to write up all the problems I have had with how this bank's online system works, how their phone system works and that ridiculous hang up on Wednesday. Mr. manager assures me he will see that it gets passed up to those who deal with customer service. I'm also thinking I should send a copy to the Better Business Bureau, my congressman, my senator and the Illinois Attorney General. The latter's office takes a very dim view of this kind of thing.

I was remembering when I refinanced my mortgage and got a debit card. I put it aside and didn't use it. At the time, we were getting paper payroll and expense checks. Those expense checks were what I lived on.

Now, everything is electronic. My paycheck and expense checks are direct deposit. The only thing I see is the email saying the expense check has been deposited and the statement from my paycheck. I never see anything that requires me to go to the bank. Am I better off this way?

I'm thinking, for me, I need to have X number of dollars at the beginning of the week and that's all I have to live on. It's too easy to swipe the debit card at Caribou Coffee or Flips Italian Beef or Carol's Garden Restaurant. I'm thinking, for the time being, I need to go back to the old ledger form of financial accounting. Everything I buy or any check I write, needs to be entered into some sort of ledger so I can account for every penny. Perhaps I got lax. Perhaps I got too trusting although I do look at my accounts at least 4 times a month online. I match up all receipts but, for me, maybe that's not enough.

I don't know. I just know I can't go through this again and I need to have concrete specific proof that I didn't spend more than I took in so if this were to happen again, I can come back and say, "I did not screw up. You did."

I need pie. After work, I'm going over to Dominicks and getting a pie, a whole pie, and I'm going to take a long time to eat it.

Beverage: China Black Tea

Deb

Step 1: Conquering the fear

I have done everything I can on my end. I've gone through my checkbook and had 2 other people look at it. Both say that there isn't anything the matter with my math. They have questioned some entries but it goes back to the question that needs to be answered, "Where has my money gone?" When I account for everything and the bank still says I'm short, there is some disconnect.

Today, I'm going there to tell them to explain it to me, to find where it went wrong and to fix it.

My financial advisor has been nothing but upbeat. We are even using this time to assess my total picture and he's made, what I feel, are very good recommendations. I've had friends, and you know who you are so I won't list you, who have, totally unbidden, called or emailed with help to get me through this pot hole.

The biggest challenge for me is to not play the blame game with myself. My friends will testify that I can get so down on myself which produces a huge self-defeating attitude. It's my fault this happened. I'm really stupid when it comes to finances and managing money. And so on and so forth. I've been told to go into the bank this afternoon with the idea that there's a simple mistake and we just have to find it. The biggest urgency is that I get paid tomorrow and have, currently, no access to any accounts. Hence, this needs to be resolved or, until it gets resolved, I need to have access to some funds on which to live.

But, I thought, rather than focus on the bad, which is so very easy for me to do, I'd focus on some good. Maybe in typing what I'm grateful for, I can feel better, that life is not a fall into darkness, but a rise into light.

I am grateful for:
1) My friends who have counseled me through this mess. Listening ears and offers of help show me I'm not alone even when I feel I am.
2) Healthy cats. Mija sitting in my lap last night, looking up and me and purring. Pilchard, this morning, while I'm eating my Cheerios, demanding my free hand give ear scratches.
3) Minor prescience on my part to buy enough groceries to last for 6 weeks so I am not currently out of food.
4) Laughter, although I certainly could use a whole lot more of it.
5) Chocolate
6) Fall. I stood on the deck last night when I got home and breathed deeply that uniquely scented air.
7) Iowa football. I have something to look forward to this weekend as Iowa plays Indiana.
8) A job. This would be a whole lot worse if I didn't have a job to go to even if we have little to nothing to do at the moment.

I've been cleared to leave early today to deal with this. My feelings on religion have me torn between thinking this will go okay with a wee bit of prayer and feeling that God doesn't take and hasn't taken an active roll in my life for some time now so asking simply for the fortitude to get through this is a waste of time. I just need to be calm and tell them we have to get this fixed now, that I get paid tomorrow and I need access to some funds even if it's just a couple hundred dollars to get through a week and pay the immediate bills. That's all I need. Strength.

Beverage: Assam Tea

Deb

Is that a smile?

After coming home and sleeping for 75 minutes which puts me behind in cleaning my house for the weekend, I really can't deny any more that I'm wrestling with that 'd' word. It could be argued that this has been a hugely stressful month and, in reality, whatever form that reality takes, I kind of have a modicum of reasons to feel this way. I have blogged about Rascal but I have not blogged about the other over riding stress and that is the people who make up my WoW guild.

There's been too much drama. I find myself dealing, every day, with hurt feelings, in appropriate language (I have kids as young as 7 in my guild. They don't need to be exposed to sexual innuendo even if they can't read it.), people wanting to do their own thing, people wanting others to help them because it seems someone else gets help all the time. (sigh), in short, whenever you get more than 5 disparate people in a group, there will always be minor misunderstandings. And I'm as guilty as the next person in the miscommunication business. I may know English but there are times when it fails me completely.

As my marriage felt apart, the counselor I was seeing admonished me to not rely on others to lift myself out of the rut. There were stages to walking down this road. 1) You see the pot hole, you fall into the pot hole. 2) You see the pot hole, you try to walk around but fall in anyway. 3) You see the pot hole, try to walk around, fall in but try to get out. 4) You see the pot hole, try to walk around, fall in, try to get out and almost make it. 5) You see the pot hole, try to walk around, fall in, try to get out and succeed. 6) You see the pot hole, try to walk around and make it. 7) You see the pot hole and realize it's not as big as you thought so you easily walk around it. And 8) You go down another street.

I'm a very image oriented person. I need the analogy of images to move myself forward. I truly felt and feel now, that I fell into a pot hole. Some times, when I get up in the morning, I can see the hole and do make an effort to walk around it, but can't. Close friends know I have been feeling as if I shoulder way too much, whether real or imagined. I've been told to walk away but where do I go? Right now, this is the street on which I find myself.

"Turn on some music," I've been told. I do and have. "Go read. You like to read," says another. I have been working on the huge stack of periodicals on the end table in the living room. I slept quite peacefully last night until Betsy started yeowling. There was a gentle rain although accompanied by lightning. It didn't rain in, just hit the window sill. I was almost teleported back in time to the sound of rain on the tin roof of the porch of the farmhouse where I grew up. If ever there was a more soothing sound, I have not found it.

I'm not eating other than a bit at breakfast and lunch. I come home and food has no appeal. Yet, there is the stirring that having company will break the malaise because I want to show off. I want the blueberry cobbler to be the best they have ever had. I even discovered frozen blueberries in the back of the freezer. I could make it tonight, but it would be a wee bit soggy by Saturday. Cobbler is best served warm within an hour of making. Oh! Gotta order the Oberweise ice cream.

Betsy is very, very clingy and very, very upset tonight. It's going to be a very long night if I have to put her in the kitchen because she's pacing and meowing. I keep finding ants in various rooms. They must be living in my walls. That's depressing. I did something to my left knee. My mobility is 70% and kneeling to clean is painful. How will I get the bathroom to my specifications? I sent the dating service a comment on the last guy they sent me. I can't get in touch with him and he's not called me. I give up. The drive to find even a companion is a dead-end road. My next door neighbor is a lesbian, nice gal. She had her girlfriend over for dinner tonight. I felt like putting up a sign, "No PDA's within 150' of my property." I have birds singing to each other outside my window. Squirrels chasing each other in the back yard. Everything seems to be pairing up. I know it's my mood and I could go to a movie on my own, but that feels like reinforcing my singleness.

I went out to get the mail and next to the mailbox was this.

It's a stargazer lily. I had planted them years ago. Sometimes they come up. Sometimes they don't. The front planting beds are horribly overgrown and need a thorough digging up. I don't have the energy and my allergies this year would make the pollen from the weeds a huge trigger. I would cough for hours after weeding. The little I've done in the back has left my chest aching from the cough. I'm tempted to cut it and bring it inside. I love these. Their smell. Their majesty. I stood there and looked at it for a good while.

Is this the ladder out of the pot hole? Right now I just want something to make me smile.

Beverage: Flat Coke

Deb

So, I'm late.

I thought of posting this weekend, but life is oppressive right now and I know I'm depressed and there's not a lot of happiness found. Betsy is not good now, too. She's not eating and paces the house meowing. Rascal did eat on Sunday, quite a bit, too, but I need to figure out how to pay for that ultrasound.
I missed the payment deadline on my Discover card. I have a mild number dyslexia. It took me 30 years to figure it out, why I have always, always struggled with math. I transpose numbers when I read them. "2" can look like "5" to me. "3" can look like "8". I can read "70" as "13". It's not all the time so it took this long to realize the problem. I have no idea what I thought "12" looked like but I missed sending in my payment. I called them right away this morning and they were very nice. I can cover the check with my checking account funds, thankfully. Plus, I'll get a larger expense check from work for all the running around I did Wednesday through Friday. But that doesn't come until the end of the week. Still, that will cover the phone bill.
But, how do I pay for Rascal and my car? This struggle just weighs on me. Yesterday, I tried to cheer up by looking at all I got done over the weekend. I had more energy than I've had in weeks. I still have a small cough but I think I am 98% well. My eyes are giving me problems this morning, however. But that's easy, relatively speaking, to handle. (I battled an eye infection all of April.)
What did I accomplish over the weekend? I got dishes done. I got two loads of wash done. I cleaned up the back yard, next to the deck. I changed cat litter and washed the floor around the boxes. I cleaned part of the bathroom. With my allergies, cleaning the bathroom is a whole day or two day event.
Yesterday, I took my current craft project onto the deck and spent 2 hours working on it. I would love to post photos of it as it develops but it's a Christmas present for one of my best friends and she reads this blog. All she knows is that it has something to do with her favorite colors. I'm really liking how it's turning out and it's relaxing for me to do. I had left this project in a box on Carole's kitchen counter when I flew home and it took her a bit to send it back. Well, we were both sick. I wouldn't have worked on it anyway when I was sick.
Here it is, Monday morning. I'm taking Betsy to the vet at 4:30 for fluids. I'm learning how to do this so there won't be the $20 tech charge every time. I'm hoping the addition of fluids will perk her up. And I'm exploring options to pay for Rascal's ultrasound, although rest assured, none of those options involve something illegal. I'm too chicken for that.
I took all my Hawaiian shirts out of the closet this morning. I'm going to iron them and start wearing them. As they are brightly colored, I'm hopeful they will help perk me up.
I would like something good to happen for a change. Maybe we all would.

Beverage: Blackberry Sage tea

Deb