I got to make pancakes yesterday afternoon for Shaniah. We were out of milk, so I substituted with coffee creamer. Kinda seemed like a bad idea, but, the little lady wanted pancakes. They actually came out pretty good. She had this smirk on her face that made the experiment worthwhile.
I looked outside on the porch yesterday, and saw three beautiful buds from my wildflowers. Took long enough for them to get here! But, it’s October. How long will they last? I sort of forgot about watering them. My dad pretty much took over. He came to me a little later in the day, asking me about hashtags. I tried to be cool about it, explaining best as I could. I used an example….with tumblr. Let’s just say I saw some Gay Romulan porno. His eyes aren’t as fast as mine, but the point was understood.
I chanted in the evening around 11, thinking about the unfortunate parts of the day. Government shutting down, sickness of indirect people in my social circle, and this crazy bodily stuff going on with me. I went from a flare up to this endless coughing and mucus upchuck fest. It sort of stops me from eating…anything. But I was so tired of soup. Still, I am thankful to be able to breathe. Constantly coughing sucks, hocking loogies sucks, but I’m still able to do stuff. I just need to make sure I have lots of tissue nearby.
I have been chanting and chanting to battle this daggone illness. I do not want to be ill on Christmas. I do not want to be ill in the spring. It sort of shuts me down from being able to get out to do stuff at certain times of the year. One day at a time, right? Of course.
Now for the fun part! I got a response email today. I didn’t read it. I read the subject line and a couple of words. So, what, checking for Twitter or googling me or whatever. Which is…odd, but expected behavior. I spoke my mind and got heated, though. The issue wasn’t really about the PSPs. In my mind, I know one was “borrowed” with the intent of being given back to me but never was. The other, uh was on my chest charging and just took legs and walked off. Fine. They were gifts that disappeared. I brought it up to prove a point about not being able to trust or believe the writer of the email.
My hardest feelings come from recent attempts to be friends. Got snubbed, rinse and repeat with an excuse about how busy/uninterested I seemed. Or was it more like I wasn’t leaning closer to what you wanted, and you got bored? Leaving at that. Not going to get into it, not going to keep ranting or explaining it.
Some things– no matter how much a part of us would like them to be fixed or on a clean slate–cannot be. They don’t have to be! Hey man, I’m not going to be a dick and wish you any part of bad health or luck. Just sayin–reflect on what happened before and consider why I’d have hard feelings. I don’t just randomly pull feelings outta myself. Can’t do it anymore. Be honest with yourself.
Anyway, that’s it.
Still me, still gonna write my feelings. They conflict, they change. I often have to remind myself that some things bite me on the rump when I give them a chance. These are the things an awkward catbear does not need. Especially when the bad outweighs the good in many areas.
Now, if there’s commentary hot and ready for an email on that one, it won’t get read. Sorry. Hopefully the chapter’s closed. The one where the writer gets in trouble? Never ends.