A friend read me the riot act; said I wasn’t being a very good friend…where have I been all this time? Blah blah blah and all that jazz. I snarled that life had made me mad enough to spit nails. Roofing nails and not those chintzy picture-hanging things. Here is my life. Nutshell cracked.
1) Indiana died – two weeks of feline fury from which I haven’t fully recovered. I can’t even look at a cat without welling up.
2) One of my oldest friend’s dad died. It is hard for me to talk about this because it brings 9/21/92 back into sharp focus.
3) my friend Ed died. all I can say is thank crap I was able to say goodbye.
4) my uncle was diagnosed with early Alzheimers. No words for someone who has no memory.
5) divorce is happening all around me. And I’m told it’s none of my business so I shut my mouth and close my heart.
6) Kisa might lose his job – this is a loooonnng story and we are hanging in the balance of wait and see.
7) I might lost my job – not so long of a story; the place is in trouble – should I stay or should I go? Indecision killing me.
8) my grandfather is still “dying”
9) my friend landed in the hospital with a “heart thing.” He’s fine but I still worry wart over him.
10) three friends got laid off from their jobs on Friday
11) a murder occurred just 100 yards from my daytime view
12) I have another lump.
13) Thanksgiving is a looming beast that refuses to be tamed.
This is my world as I know it. I’ll get over it soon, I promise. My recovery is slow. I take solace in small things. My husband loves me still. The books I have been reading are fun and funny. I’ve been to Africa, Montana and Oxford all in one day. Some people are patient with me. Time heals wounds. Number 11 wasn’t me. So damn lucky.