Tag: mental-health

Amazing Grace

Wednesday and the parades are rolling again tonight. I don’t think I’m ready to deal with this, to be honest. I can’t believe it’s the final weekend of Mardi Gras madness already, can you? I have to run a couple of errands today after leaving work, trying to get it all accomplished and get my ass home while it’s still possible to find a place to park. Much as I don’t want to deal with the errands tonight, tomorrow would be even more difficult as it’s Muses Thursday, and going straight home from work is no guarantee I can park within a mile of the house. Sigh. The pleasure of living inside the box, right?

I was super tired when I got home yesterday, and I never did feel like I was fully awake all day, to be honest. I was finally able to get my night time prescription refilled again, after the first pill bottle mysteriously disappeared (all fingers point at Sparky, and it’s probably under the dishwasher or the couch), and so I had to adjust back from one medication (I still had my old night time medication) to the right one again, which would explain why yesterday I never felt like my brain escaped the fog. Today is, in fact, the first day in a long time where I’ve felt mentally alert again, which is great. It’s terrible when you’re not on your game, and you aren’t sure why; now that I am in my sixties mental things are much more alarming than they used to be–and some memories I’ve forgotten are so forgotten even when I am reminded, in great detail, I don’t remember anything about it. That’s disturbing on a very deep level; my mental acuity is something I do worry about as I get older. We don’t have any mental deterioration diseases in the family as far as I can remember–I need to ask Dad about that, along with any other genetic conditions he and Mom might have or know about within the family (we aren’t a family that talks about that sort of thing much; I think it’s mostly because we have so much genetic tendency to faulty wiring in our brains to begin with)–but I think I’d know about it if it was in the immediate family.

Anyway, tonight when I get home from work I need to do some laundry and the dishes. I don’t know if I’ll go out to the corner tonight or not, but all signs point to not. Nyx is the final parade tonight, and as far as I know, Nyx is still a horrific white supremacy krewe (last year my mind was not on Carnival), so I don’t know if I’d want to go to that even if I didn’t have to get up so early in the morning tomorrow. I do need to write about that at some point, don’t I? The great thing about being a crime writer is you never run out of prejudice, bigotry and hate to write about.

It looks like I’ll be going to Alabama to see family and visit Mom’s grave next weekend; Dad is going down for the anniversary of losing her, and I’ll go up and meet him up there for the weekend. It’s just easier, really, for me to go instead of my sister, and I don’t think Dad should do these grave visits without one of us there for him. It’s also kind of for me; it’s just easier mentally and emotionally to focus on Dad’s loss rather than my own. It’s probably not the healthiest way to deal with it, but this is how I generally deal with any kind of personal loss or tragedy in my life: focus on the grief of others. I also suppose that the impending anniversary (today, I think, is the anniversary of her final stroke? It’s all murky to me other than knowing she died on Valentine’s Day) has probably also been working on me subconsciously (subconscious BASTARDS!!!) and could have something to do with the foggy funk I’ve been in lately, in addition to the unfortunate medication change of the last couple of weeks.

I didn’t watch the Grammys the other night, but I did watch the Tracy Chapman/Luke Combs “Fast Car” performance on Youtube, which brought back a lot of memories. “Fast Car” was a very important song in the development of my life and my adulthood; the lyrics of feeling trapped and needing to escape a toxic life situation resonated very deeply with Double Life Gregalicious, and helped start the process of finally merging those two very separate mentally unhealthy existences, which is something else I should blog about–but it was amazing seeing the audience reaction to a middle-aged out Black lesbian, and I’m going to have to listen to her album again; it’s been a hot minute. But thanks again, for your voice and your music and your soul, Ms. Chapman.

I did edit a short story–or started editing, at any rate–last night, and it really is amazing what you don’t see when you’re in the midst of writing it and when you come back to it again after a lengthy period of time. “How the hell did I not see how clunky that sentence is?” was constantly running through my mind, and I also realized what the point of the story was–he’s reached his breaking point, and I need to communicate that to the reader more clearly than in the original draft. It felt good, you know, to work on something, and feel like I was doing some good polishing work on it. I really do love writing.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a great Wednesday, Constant Reader, and I will most likely check in again with some more blatant self-promotion later.

The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face

I did not want to get up this morning. PT was particularly exhausting yesterday after work, and I also made groceries right after. By the time I got into the apartment and had the car unloaded, I…don’t really remember much of the rest of the evening, other than I sat in my chair and watched documentaries about the Eastern Roman Empire on Youtube for most of the rest of the night before I retired to bed early. I feel very rested this morning but still a bit tired, and also like I am running a bit on accessory. I know once the fog in my mind clears I’ll be ready to get this show on the road, but right now all my body wants to do is go back to bed and climb back into the blanket cocoon. Today is going to bounce around between 48 and 55 degrees, with the potential for wind and rain all day. Sounds like the kind of day when you’re very grateful to get back into the house after work, doesn’t it? It’s hard to believe it’s only Tuesday.

I know I will be very grateful to go back to bed tonight and go back to sleep. Clearly, I need more coffee.

I ordered a toy for Sparky that comes on a stretchy string and you hang from the doorframe, and he’s been playing with it almost incessantly since I hung it up. Given he bored very quickly of every other toy we’ve gotten him, I now know the answer: a hanging toy. He’s been trying to get the mouse ever since we came downstairs, and he spent hours jumping at it last night (which was cute; he also finally got it down at one point and dragged it into the living room to show me, and then took it upstairs to show Paul; who brought it back down and rehung it for more hours of kitty entertainment). He was also cuddly last night when he wore himself out, and he was cuddly this morning in bed. Could it be all he needed was a hanging toy? He’s also getting so big! He still likes to ride on my shoulders, draped around my neck–I have to let him up there every time I get home from work, and then I have to walk him over to the dangling ceiling fan cords–and wants to go up there every morning, and he rides up there as I walk down the stairs, chirping happily. He still doesn’t meow; like I said, he still just chirps, or some variation of the chirp–he draws it out into a whine sometimes, but that’s really it for cat noises from him so far.

Ah, now the caffeine is starting to jumpstart my engine and I am beginning to feel more awake, more alive, more ready to face this Tuesday before Mardi Gras. Parades begin again tomorrow, and run every day from there till Fat Tuesday. I have to leave work earlier every night the rest of this week, so I can get home before they close the streets and (hopefully) find a place to park within a mile of the house. I did take Monday off, so once I am finished here Thursday I don’t have to go anywhere other than to PT Friday morning and one final grocery run before the car is parked for four days. (Oh, I take that back; I do have PT on Lundi Gras in the morning–hopefully I’ll be able to park coming home from that excursion) and then I only have a three day work-week next week, which will make for a nice break. I hope to get stuff done on all those days at home; I will probably skip Wednesday night parades, go to Muses on Thursday, do the Friday night parades and Iris and Tucks on Saturday before skipping all of Sunday and going out for Orpheus Monday night.

I also felt a little off yesterday, and this morning realized I hadn’t taken my medications yesterday, which is never a good thing. It does make a difference–the absence of a new does of blood pressure and acid reflux and anti-anxiety meds is always noticeable the first time I forget, and extremely noticeable if I miss two consecutive days. I do feel calmer today than I did yesterday, and I was anxious a few times (should have been the tip-off, really) and snapped at other drivers a few times while driving around town. I also grew irritated and impatient with the woman in front of me at the grocery store, who seemed to think the smart way to unload her entire cart onto the belt was one item at a time per hand while trying to decide how she wanted them bagged, I suppose; she was arranging things on the belt and then digging through everything to find the next item to go on the belt properly. It was a very slow process and had I been on my meds yesterday I wouldn’t have been annoyed or irritated–because I would have thought ah, she has anxiety or is OCD or somehow isn’t wired right either rather than letting my own faulty wiring default to impatience. (As I started writing that example is when I realized her brain probably isn’t wired right, either–which I would have thought instead of impatiently scrolling through my phone and resisting the urge to say something snarky. Meds make a difference, seriously.)

And on that note, I am getting another cup of coffee and heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Tuesday, Constant Reader, and I may be back later–you never know.

Even the Nights Are Better

Constant Reader, I didn’t write a damned thing last night.

It rained pretty much all day, and the city was in a flash flood warning for most of it (again today as well), and I managed to make it through the work day fine. I got off work early because of PT, left and got the mail on the way to PT, and then made groceries after PT. PT amped up yesterday and was not easy the way it had been; there was even an exercise at the very end I simply could not do. As I also despise failing at something, that was a needed exercise in humility. At the same time, it was also the first time I’ve tried any exercise since the surgery that I wasn’t able to do–and the surgery was two months ago this week. So, rather than being hard on myself about it, I chose to accept it as a milestone and something I need to overcome rather than a failure. (See how the meds are working for me now? In October that would have sent me into a funk of depression and “I’m such a loser” thinking, so I am not sure if I just have a better mental attitude, if its the meds working, or a combination of two. Regardless, I am counting it as a win.) So, I got home from work, did a few things around here, and eventually fell asleep in my easy chair, which is where I was when Paul got home. He woke me up and I went to bed and slept beautifully all night–partly because of the rain–and so here we are, with me feeling rested, it’s gray and gloomy and rainy outside, and I am working at home so I do not have to leave the house unless I want to. Huzzah!

I have to say I’ve really not been tired or groggy all week–I haven’t been that way in the morning in a very long time, but I do start falling asleep around nine-ish every night. I guess my body has not only adjusted to the lovely new meds but also to my work schedule. There’s really no chance I’ll stay up later than I should on a weeknight now because I am conking out once the clock strikes nine. I hope to get a lot of things done today around the house and around work-at-home duties; I feel really good and energized this morning. Sam the handyman came in and painted the kitchen ceiling yesterday (it looks so nice this morning!) but left the giant ladder in the kitchen so he could come in and do some touching up, and needless to say, the massive ladder is a delightful playground for Sparky–who not only loves to climb but also has figured out how to climb down, too. I told you he’s a very smart boy…and so big! Not full grown yet, either. I think he is going to be bigger than Skittle, who was also a very big boy.

Yikes!

I’m hoping to get a lot done this weekend, frankly, but I am also not going to worry about holding my feet to the fire should I not. I do want to finish this story I’ve been working on this week, and I do want to do some more writing along the way. I also want to spend some quality time reading Lina Chern’s Playing the Fool and maybe finishing off some of these other posts I’ve been playing with for quite some time. I would like to finish my analysis of Saltburn (which I can also rewatch again, which is marvelously possible thanks to streaming services), as well as my analysis of the latest volume in Heartstopper, and why it made me a bit uncomfortable, just as the show’s second season was questionable in some ways. I still like and appreciate it very much, but at the same time, nothing is above criticism and critique, especially when it’s approached in a positive way. Because the bottom line is I do think Heartstopper, both book and show, are vitally important works; there’s just a couple of things I find questionable, which is also a broader question for the community as a whole, too.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Friday wherever you are, Constant Reader, and stay safe and dry, New Orleans!

(You’re So Square) Baby I Don’t Care

Work at home Friday and hurray for getting to sleep a little late this morning! It’s always lovely to wake up without an alarm; I always somehow feel more rested when I’m not ripped from the depths of slumber by the braying annoyance of an alarm. Next week I start strength physical therapy, which is the final step of my recovery from surgery; I am really hoping to settle into a gym routine once I am done finally with the PT. I also made it through the day without succumbing to sleepiness or exhaustion, which didn’t hit until I got home last night. I did some writing–not much–and some chores around the house, and the apartment isn’t a disaster area this morning, despite the rampage Sparky apparently went on in my desk area sometime while I was gone yesterday. Obviously, at some point today I am going to have to work on cat-proofing my workspace more intently.

Even as I type this he is marauding on the kitchen counter, getting up to no good, and soon I imagine everything on the counters will be on the kitchen floor soon enough before he gets bored and moves on to the living room table. Yes, it’s been a hot minute since we had a kitten who will probably grow into a very mischievous, playful cat.

Paul got home late last night and we finished watching Harlan Coben’s Fool Me Once on Netflix, which we really enjoyed before I went to bed. Paul generally doesn’t go into the office on Fridays, but as the festivals are drawing near I am trying to get used to not seeing him as much as I usually do when it’s not festival-season. This is generally my least favorite part of the year, but it will pass eventually. Before I know it the parades will be rolling down St. Charles Avenue, the throws will be flying, parking will be a nightmare, and I’ll have to start planning out my life more carefully so as to manage driving and chores around the parades.

I have some on-line events tomorrow for the Bold Strokes Book-a-thon, so I’ll have to run my errands today after work-at-home duties are completed I am hoping to have a productive day today and a good weekend; I am also going to try to finish the new Tara Laskowski before I move on to my next read. And as I sit here typing this, Sam the handyman has arrived for work and every time he passes the windows Monsieur Sparky dashes to the windows and watches him…which could explain the mess I came home to last night. Le sigh.

It’s weird because it was almost exactly a year ago that I injured my arm in the first place, and now I am heading into the final stage of recovery. Hard to believe that I’ve been dealing with this for nearly a year, isn’t it? 2023 was not a banner year for me personally, was it? LOL. The anniversary of Mom’s final stroke and her death are also rolling up on me; hopefully at some point Carnival and Valentine’s Day won’t be reminders, or be associated with that loss. Despite my best efforts to be kinder to myself in 2023, I am not so certain I succeeded the way I would have wished when I set that goal. I think i may be achieving that at some point this year. I am certainly doing better, but I still had that mentality last year of “ignore it and push through” rather than actually working and processing through my grief, which isn’t mentally healthy. I need to get past thinking of things as excuses rather than reasons. My mother died, for Christ’s sake, and I was always work through it, don’t give in to it, keep going and that was really not the right move for me. I also know I shifted a lot of my grief into concern for Dad, which was good but probably not healthy? I am glad Dad and I have spent more time together and I’m also glad that I feel closer to Dad than I’ve ever felt before, but I’m also not so sure that makes up for the loss, either. Nothing will really make up for that loss.

I’ve also started showing people the scars from the surgery. They’re almost non-existent, and he put them both into natural creases in my arm so that when I am bending or using the arm in any way, they disappear into the creases. I cannot complain about the medical care I received in any way; Dr. O’Brien was fantastic and did an amazing job on me. The final cost of it all was well over $200,000; (thank you, Humana) which is quite a lot for an outpatient surgery. And really, given that I was still prone to anxiety and not being properly medicated for it before the surgery–the insurance wasn’t as big of an issue as I feared it would be. Can we please get single-payer Medicare for all, please?

And on that note, I am getting a piece of king cake and more coffee and diving into my workday head first. Have a lovely Friday, Constant Reader, and who knows? I may be back later.

Stranger things have happened.

Is it just me, or does this guy look a lot like young Tom Cruise?

You’ve Got Another Thing Coming

And now it’s Thursday, the last day in the office for me this week, and I somehow made it through the entire week of going into the office without being tired by the end. The jury of course is still out about today–I’ll have to see how I feel at the end of the day, or mid-afternoon, of course–but I am very pleased to be awake and feeling rested this morning. I took it easy when I got home from work yesterday, spending some quality playtime with Sparky and watching some Real Housewives–my God, the Salt Lake City finale was some epic reality television–and couldn’t decide what to read next. I am leaning towards R. F. Kuang’s Yellowface (because I love me some publishing noir about authors behaving badly), but there are others in the running as well (most notably Tara Laskowski’s The Weekend Retreat). Tonight when I get home from work I will decide; I am coming home straight from work again; no need to run errands on the cusp of the weekend. I also need to get back to writing, and the sooner the better. I have high hopes for this weekend because it appears as though I won’t be tired going into the weekend, and the kitchen isn’t nearly as big a mess as it usually is on Thursdays–so if I can get the dishes handled tonight, I’ll be way ahead of things when I get home from PT tomorrow morning. I am seeing Dr. O’Brien at last on Saturday, so I am hoping to kiss the brace goodbye once and for all. LSU Gymnastics also has their first meet on Friday night, which is always fun to follow. The team is really loaded this year, too. GEAUX TIGERS!

I also want to get to the library sale this weekend to donate some books, too. Maybe I can spend some time tonight and tomorrow night pruning out more books. The laundry room is nearly under control again, but there are still even more books that can go.

And I should really started copy-editing Jackson Square Jazz so I can finally get that ebook up and available for readers. I am losing money every day that book isn’t available, and I might be able to run a promo when it becomes available (I am thinking of offering Bourbon Street Blues for free and Jackson Square Jazz for $1.99 for about a month or so). I mean, it makes sense: Scotty turns 21 this year, so I should be promoting the hell out of the Scotty series this year–and should really write another to get out this year, but I don’t think that’s going to happen. I’ve always focused more on writing the books than promoting them; I only have so much bandwidth, and writing/editing generally uses up the megabytes in my brain that have to do with writing/publishing. I’ve also been very shy about promo, too–which was the anxiety bedeviling me. Maybe now that I am on the right medications, that won’t be a problem going forward. It’s already helped me with some aspects of doing public stuff; so maybe my nervous aversion to doing things in public has become a thing of the past? Worth a try, at any rate, right?

I also need to work on the procrastination thing I’ve been dealing with for the majority of my life. Why do I always feel the need to wait until the last minute for everything? Why will I always goof off now instead of doing the things I need to do so I can goof off later? This would always immediately play into my anxiety, and always made my stress levels go off the charts. Was that what drove me to get so much done? Stress and anxiety and the pressure I used to put on myself? Will I be able to get as much done in the future now that the anxiety is medically handled? It does make me a bit worried, but I am sure I’ll get back on that horse when I need to.

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Thursday, Constant Reader, and I’ll check in again later, most likely.

Athena

Up ungodly early to start off the new year with PT and then off to work. I slept well last night, and feel rested this morning; there was no tangle of blankets this morning, so I wasn’t restless, and I don’t feel very tired this morning, which is good. The other nice thing is now getting up at six tomorrow will feel like I’ve actually slept in some. I feel like I’ve rested enough now, although all the time off from the holidays is going to make going back to work five days a week challenging, to say the least.

Yesterday was a decent day, really. It was a low energy day, for some reason, and while I did get some chores and things done yesterday, I didn’t do much of anything for the day. I did read quite a bit of Danielle Arsenault’s Glory Be, which I am really enjoying, and then settled in to watch the LSU game, which they did finally win in the last minutes, 35-31. I think the offense going into next year is in pretty good shape, but the defense needs a lot of work still. We then watched Michigan rally to beat Alabama, and I watched some of the Washington game before going to bed–and woke up to see the national title game will be between Michigan and Washington. Good for them, and now I have no need whatsoever to watch that game, either.

And it’s a new year, which means all the things I’ve not been paying attention to, or responding to, has to be picked up and taken care of this week–like emails; I definitely need to clean out the inbox. I also am behind on day job in the office duties that I will have to get back on top of this week as well. I need to do some things around here when I get home tonight, too, so I hope I am not terribly tired when I get home the way I was last week when I had to get up early for PT. I will have to get the mail on the way home, and maybe even swing by the grocery store…I don’t know. Tomorrow is also pay day and pay-the-bills day, too. (It always seems a little brutal when the first pay day of the new year is in the first week of January, a brutal reminder that bills never take time off as we start a new year.)

I have finally started feeling more like myself lately, which has been really nice, too. I have felt a little off ever since the surgery, which I suppose is normal. I really don’t think I need the PT anymore, but I don’t see Dr. O’Brien again until this next Saturday morning, so I won’t officially be released from it until then. I am also hoping to be freed from the brace this weekend, fingers crossed and prayers aloft. I don’t really think I need it anymore, but I also don’t want to take it off arbitrarily until I am officially cleared either. The arm seems to be doing better, frankly, which pleases me enormously. Overall, this whole experience wasn’t terrible, other than that first terrifying week after the surgery when I was essentially trapped in my easy chair for eight days before I was finally off the ice machine and could return to my bed for sleeping. That seems like a million years ago now…

It’s also only forty degrees out there this morning, with a predicted high of a mere fifty for the day. Woo-hoo. I haven’t been feeling the cold as much this year, but I’ve also not been going outside a whole lot lately, either. But it’s definitely been helping me sleep at night, and the bed has been feeling super-comfortable lately. I feel as though my sleep is finally under control with the new meds, which is awesome, and I don’t feel as tired and groggy as I used to be before the medication switch. And to think, this could have been the case all along had I had a decent primary care physician at any point in the last eight or so years. But no sense weeping about what should have been or what might have been. It won’t change anything, and the past can never be undone–which is why I spent so much of my life never looking back. But looking back doesn’t mean missing the past or wishing it had been different, either; neither extreme is the best option, really. I’ve been doing more of that since Mom died (almost a year ago), and it hasn’t been bad at all. In some ways, it’s been helpful. My pre-thirties life was kind of miserable and unhappy and unfulfilled, and so I never wanted to remember either the 70s or the 80s. But it doesn’t hurt or hinder the present by looking back without regret, either. For me, it’s been more about “okay, why do I handle things like this instead of like that?” and remembering the root cause of so many of my anxiety-driven neuroses has actually kind of helped unlock the neurosis and freed me from it. I am still, at sixty-two, very much a work in progress.

And on that note, I am going to get cleaned up and head into the spice mines. Have a lovely Tuesday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back with you soon, if not later today.

Wake Up My Love

…it’s a new year.

2024, to be exact. LSU plays at eleven this morning, and I’ve let a lot of things slide these last few days. Yesterday was a lazy day; I read for awhile, watched the Saints game (they won!), and then we started watching movies. First up was a gay horror film, Midnight Kiss, which was much better than I expected it to be; followed by The Holdovers, which I also enjoyed; and the evening was capped off with The Exorcist: Believers which was so fucking terrible I cannot imagine how much money they had to throw at Ellen Burstyn to reprise her role of Chris MacNeil. (I mean, the movie seemed to have listened to my observation that any religion that ever gets drawn into a horror story inevitably postulates that Catholicism is real, and therefore the only true Christianity, as it expounded exorcism out and beyond Catholicism into other faiths, which was the only nice thing about the movie.)

Sometimes sequels are nothing more than money grabs that demean the original. Just saying.

Today is going to be mostly about college football with some chores tossed in for good measure. I have early morning physical therapy tomorrow, so won’t be able to see the end of the Washington-Texas game, but I’ll check the score when I rise.

So here we are on the first morning of 2024, and as usual, I am thinking about the new year yawning before me like an open blank book and I want to set some attainable goals for it as well as roll over the ones that didn’t get done last year.

I suppose the first and most important goal for me as far as 2024 is concerned is to continue my physical therapy and recovery from my surgery, and to carry that through to eating better and a regular workout routine of some sort, whether it’s simply stretching, walking, or weight training. I want to stay strong and have energy, and being in better physical condition will help me stay injury-free and healthy. I need to eat better, and I’d like to get down to maybe somewhere between 190 and 200 by the end of this year. I had let this slide for a very long time, and it’s going to be hard to get back into the swing of things again at over sixty, but it can be done.

I’m not going to add “get an agent” for this year, as it’s been a goal for longer than this blog has existed and so making it a goal doesn’t mean it’ll happen or get done. I am going to put “finish designing my website” on this list, though. I’ve not had the best luck with that over the years, and I really didn’t/don’t have the time to do it myself, or teach myself how to do it. I did get started on a simple site, but have completely forgotten everything I learned doing it and will essentially have to start over; and probably won’t finish and will end up forgetting everything I learned all over again. But if I steal some time every Saturday or Sunday morning now that football season is almost over…it could be do-able.

I do want to continue working on myself and becoming a better person overall; a lot of that requires self-reflection as well as remembering the past and situations that triggered future behavioral responses in me and hopefully putting that anxiety-ridden trauma to rest once and for all. The self-work includes better educating myself about the world, and viewing history with a more jaundiced eye–and my eye was already more jaundiced than most.

I also would like to read more, and read more for pleasure rather than quite so analytically. It took me a long time to shake over reading as a reviewer, and the easiest way for me to shake that was switching to reading as an editor–which I have also struggled to stop doing. But I think I am there, at last–and so I want to get back into reading a lot more–especially if all I am doing is scrolling on my phone. I do want to spend less time on social media for sure.

I also want to be better about marketing. My issues with promotion and marketing and public appearances were always anxiety-related, and I have finally learned how to control that…plus the new medications should go a long way to making me loosen up and relax a lot more when it comes to those sorts of things. The panel I stepped in to moderate at the last minute at Bouchercon was actually one of the best experiences I’ve had with and on a panel. I hope that there will be more of those experiences, and I am not going to let myself get worked up into knots before hand anymore.

I’m also letting go of a lot of hard feelings. I don’t know if anyone was actually trying to genuinely damage or hurt me, so most of the pettiness is being let go of; I don’t want anyone like that having space in my head or draining any of my energy anymore. I won’t forget or forgive, of course–I just won’t care anymore.

And I want to continue to push myself and grow as a writer. I think I want to try writing a romance.

Happy New Year, everyone!

I Gotta Try

Up ungodly early for PT, and yikes, it is waaaay too early for Gregalicious to already be awake and starting my day–if six am is an unspeakably early time to get up, try five; I don’t think I’ll be complaining about six too much next week when I have to get up at five again on Tuesday. It’s only forty-five degrees this morning, which is horrifying; the high for the day is a mere fifty-three. Yikes. It was so cold at the office yesterday, I can’t even begin to tell you how miserable I was all day. The cold makes me sleepier, so I never really felt yesterday like I was present, you know? All day long I felt like I literally could just curl up and fall asleep again. But I made it through the day, which was great, and ran an errand on the way home–I love this week, because school is out and traffic is practically non-existent–and I also have errands to run after work tonight, too. Tomorrow is work-at-home Friday, which means I can sleep in a bit before rising and working, and I am really looking forward to not getting up until after the sun rises. And it’s also a lovely three-day weekend, with bowl games to watch and enjoy as I do things around the house. LSU plays on New Year’s, which will be a preview of next year’s starting quarterback, so we’ll get sort of a taste of what LSU will be like next fall, when they have that brutal schedule–USC, UCLA, Florida, Alabama, Mississippi, Texas and Oklahoma–as a new era of college football begins.

I also need to start promoting the two books that were released right before my surgery–terrible timing, you know? But it’s never too late, which is the true (and perhaps only) beauty of the modern era of publishing. Once the season your new release has passed, you used to be finished. But with ebooks and e-everything these days, you can keep on doing promotion until people stop following you and start unfriending you everywhere, LOL.

We finished off the first season of War of the Worlds last night, and have two more seasons to get through. It’s that odd week between holidays where most shows go on hiatus, so no new episodes of a lot of things I watch (looking at you, Bravo), so we have to find things to watch. I think War of the Worlds will safely get us to next week, and everything returns next week anyway.

I was tired when I got home last night, and knowing I had to get up early this morning didn’t motivate me a whole lot to get things done. The kitchen is a mess still, and there will always be more laundry to do and dishes to wash and/or put away. Sigh. The life of a housewife, seriously…make that a working housewife, and seriously, I understand why all those suburban wives and mothers were taking pills in the 50s and 60s. The endless drudgery…I used to always get a bit of a thrill when I cleaned and the house was all neat and organized. It was satisfying. It still is, but it’s not a compulsion the way it used to be, where I didn’t feel comfortable or could relax in the house as long as it was messy. I also realized where this obsessive cleaning mentality came from, and yes, I was still trying to please my mother. I could hear her voice, with the shudder, saying “how can anyone live like that?”

Today I am swinging by to get the mail on my way home, and picking up a prescription and some Claritin-D, too. I doubt I’ll be in the mood to do any cleaning tonight, or have the energy to do so, but that’s fine. I can clean up around work-at-home duties tomorrow. I’ll also have to run some other errands–I really need to wash the car, seriously–and dig into Danielle Arsenault’s debut novel.

And maybe do some writing. It certainly can’t hurt.

And now I am heading to the spice mines. Have a good Thursday, Constant Reader.

Run Rudolph Run

I can’t help hearing today’s title sung to the tune of that horrible story song from the 1970’s, “Run Joey Run.”

Yesterday was exhausting. I got up early to go get the oil changed (to discover that on my next visit the maintenance due–the car is going to be seven in January–will cost about $600, and I also will need to replace two tires eventually; but those are the two originals that are left, and over seven years for a tire is pretty great. I’ll deal with the $600 when I have to). I also went and made groceries, got gas, picked up a prescription, and treated myself to Five Guys. I got home at almost one; and then it started to rain and get colder. It was a perfect day for reading, and being exhausted…is there anything more cozy than reading a book while it’s raining and cold out and you’re under blankets with a sleeping, purring kitty in your lap? I think not. I did finish reading Calypso, Corpses, and Cooking (that Oxford comma is important in the title) by Raquel V. Reyes (more on that later), and started my next book, Buried in a Good Book by Tamara Berry–but only got a few pages in before I got antsy to start working on things. I slept really well last night, and even slept in a bit this morning, which was lovely and felt marvelous. I am going to be productive today–or at least as long as my energy lasts, at any rate. I’ve made a list of things that I absolutely have to get done today, and I am going to plug away at it until everything is marked off. We watched the last two available episodes of Reacher last night, and am enjoying it quite a bit. I recognized the opening scene at the ATM with the carjacking victim, but couldn’t remember which book it was from–turned out to be Bad Luck and Trouble, which fills in the rest of Reacher’s back story–the first was about his brother and family; this is his professional career, which makes sense for viewers who’ve not read the books–it answers a lot of questions about the character and opens the door to more adaptations of the book.

I also made chicken white bean chili yesterday, but by the time it was done and ready to eat I’d been snacking all afternoon and evening and wasn’t hungry for it. I have once again made more food than we can possibly eat for the week. Oh, well.

My body is starting to get back to normal, but it’s my stamina that needs to be worked on, seriously. This running out of energy by the time the sun sets (way too early, in my opinion) isn’t great–nor is the fact that I find it increasingly difficult to remember things I should remember. It could also be my body getting used to the new meds, which seem to working very well. I’ve not really felt much stress or anxiety since I switched, which is a very good thing. And the ease with which I am weaning off the others means I probably wasn’t addicted, which was a concern; I don’t think I have the energy or the time to go into Rehab for a stay, and realistically there aren’t many options for that in New Orleans. I feel a lot better, overall, and the adjustment to changing meds hasn’t been too terrible, frankly. There are some side effects of the new meds I could do without (cottonmouth being the main irritation for me), but overall I feel much calmer, more relaxed, and capable of taking things as they come without freaking out too much.

I also have to make time–and have the energy–to make a red velvet cheesecake for the office for our potluck on Thursday. Friday is the big day–follow-up appointment with my surgeon for stitch removal and another evaluation, and I am hoping to move to not needing the brace either all the time, or at all. It’s awkward sometimes, and sometimes it is really inconvenient. It tires me out more when I am typing because of the way the brace has to rest on the desk, which raises the left hand higher than the right, so it’s an adjustment for both wrists and forearms, which tires them out faster than normal typing ordinarily would. But if this is the worst outcome from the surgery, I seriously can live with it as long as I need to. It’s hard to believe it’s almost been four weeks since my surgery; Thursday is the month anniversary.

Yikes.

And on that note, I am going to bring this to a close. Have a terrific Sunday, Constant Reader, and I’ll be back probably a little later.

Holiday Spirit

Imagine my shock and horror last evening when I realized that Christmas is next weekend. What the hell happened to December? Where did it go? Suddenly, I am almost out of time to do and mail my Christmas cards, and I really don’t want to save the awesome ones I bought for next year. Sheesh. But…I also didn’t/am not get(ting) down on myself about that fact, either; which is a really positive place for me to be in at the moment. Is the reset of my brain that I was determined to get taken care of during my recovery from surgery actually working? Perhaps…and the surgery recovery kind of was a blur where I was lucky to remember what day of the week it was, let alone the date. The new meds seem to be taking care of my anxiety, which is precisely what I needed–it’s so nice to not freak out or spiral about things over which I have no control, and calm Greg is always the best Greg. (I do know people rather enjoy when I go on a Julia Sugarbaker rant, though.) I slept well again last night, which was marvelous, and of course Sparky’s body clock alerted him that my alarm was going to be buzzing away annoyingly soon, so he emerged from his under-the-bed cave around five thirty-ish to climb up into the bed and cuddle until it was time for me to rise from the depths of Morpheus and fill his food bowl.

There’s really nothing quite so comforting as a soft kitten resting on you, purring, is there? I also think it’s kind of amazing that he’s left my injured arm alone ever since the brace went on it. My right arm is a battlefield of scabs and scars from his claws–as is my right leg (that’s the one he likes to use to climb me), but my left arm? Other than the surgery incisions and the purplish netting over them, it’s pristine. He also will stretch out in my lap to sleep–just like Scooter, he wants my lap as soon as I get home from work, and also like Scooter, my desk chair belongs to him and he refuses to sleep in my lap if I am sitting there–and always rests his cute little arm in the crook of my left elbow and purrs contentedly as his little purr engine soothes my soul.

How did I manage to live so long without having a cat? So many years wasted when I could have been saving cats from shelters. Ah, well.

We were super-busy at work yesterday–we’re heavily scheduled today too–but I applied myself and got caught up on most of, if not all, of my desk duties around my clients. I also felt better yesterday–certainly more alive and awake and present than I was on Tuesday, for sure, for sure–and I feel like today is going to be a good day overall as well. I am feeling better about most things, really (though I do wonder if the anxiety and eager-to-please mentality that comes out of it is what has motivated me to write so much over the last twenty or so years), and it’s much easier to stay positive even as the world burns to the ground around us.

It’s weird to be in the midst of the Christmas season, venerating the birth of the prophet/savior of the Christian religion (and why is a religious holiday a legal one?) while at the same time the people who claim to be his followers have put our democracy under attack and are going after everyone else’s rights–because make no mistake, if one group’s rights are under attack, everyone’s rights are under attack. (And don’t #notallChristians me; if you aren’t speaking against your Christo-fascist brethren, you’re a collaborator at worst or complicit at best. Remove the mote from your own eyes before coming for the one in mine, thank you very much….and I bet I know the Christian religion and your holy book better than you do.)

The part I don’t get about bodily autonomy opponents is this: if you believe the government has the right to interfere with women’s health care choices over the recommendations of the medical field, you really can’t at the same time object to government intervention in health insurance and health care, either… yet it’s always the same thing. (And you can’t break the law by claiming you do so because of your faith gives you a fucking free pass. “Render unto Caesar”, remember that Jesus quote? He’s saying the government is an authority to be respected, not that “if you follow me you can use me to do whatever you want!)”) Surrendering bodily autonomy means giving the government a say in your health care–so if you oppose abortion and choice, you better shut the fuck up and get vaccinated and wear masks when the government tells you to; and you need to shut the fuck up about the Affordable Care Act, Medicaid, and Medicare (I’m looking at you, demon-spawn from hell Nikki Haley). You love to talk about slippery slopes when it comes to the Second Amendment, but you’re all about the government telling women what they can and can’t do with their wombs and bodies? The fact they don’t give a fuck about child care and child health and public education and ensuring all children have the basic necessities of life is all the evidence anyone needs to know the “save the precious babies!” argument is shallower than a salad bowl. They don’t care about babies, they don’t care about women, and they don’t care about freedom, period.

They only freedom they care about is the freedom to control–and how is that freedom?

And the real slippery slope is that if the government can tell you that you have to have a child…means that the government also has the right to order you to have one…and the right to not let you have one when you choose.

Funny how the only slippery slope they care about is the one about guns.

And all the hate speech around transpeople and calling all queer people groomers while not going after organized religion–where it seems most of the child-rape happens–is another indicator of cognitive dissonance so powerful that you seriously have to wonder about the functionality of their brains, and people who don’t have a logic-based brain aren’t people I want to listen to about anything.

Rant over…for now, at any rate.

I was, however, thoroughly exhausted yesterday when I got home from work. Adjusting to being back at work is taking a little more time than I would have liked, but it is what it is. Tonight I have to do some errands on the way home from work, so I am hoping I am not as dog-tired when I get off tonight as I was yesterday. I did get some things done once I got home, but not nearly enough, and of course Sparky was very needy after his first long afternoon home alone in almost a month. He’s such a mischievous little brat sometimes. Did I mention he turned the washing machine on the other day? He’s lucky he’s also incredibly cute and sweet–but he is still an evil genius. I’ve always thought the entire point of Lucifer/Satan having been the most beautiful of the angels before the fall was a warning to humans to not be fooled into thinking beauty means good…and the degeneration of what he looked like during the late Dark and early Middle Ages into a horned, red monster with claws and a tail was just another step in the demonization of non-Christian religions; as there are any number of different pagan gods who looked like that who were also not evil.

But here it is, a mere eleven days before Christmas. It’s such a tired and boring cliché to even attempt to add anything to the conversation about the commercialization of the holiday season; that ship has long since set sail. I mean, as I always point out, it was already such a problem in the early 1960’s that Charles Schultz wrote and animated A Charlie Brown Christmas to illustrate the point. What could I possibly add to that? Paul and I have decided not to get each other gifts this year; we both buy anything we want or need whenever we think about it. All I ever want is books, anyway, and I am trying to cut back on adding books to the house unless books are going out of the house–and trying to ensure more are going out than coming in is the optimal at this moment. I’ve also decided to dispose of marked up manuscripts and early drafts of things; everything is digitized anyway, and it will clear up a lot of room in the storage attic and the apartment. Any boxes of books in the attic can also be donated, so that’s the new plan for when I have the full use of my arm again–getting rid of all that shit. I also need to cut back on streaming services I pay for, as they are all jacking up their prices for the holidays; and some of them I rarely, if ever use. It would be cheaper in the long run to simply buy the full seasons from Apple than pay for the service every month…and that would also make me more selective about what we actually watch.

It’s nice to feel good about myself and my life again, despite the state of the world, you know?

And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. Have a lovely Thursday, Constant Reader, and I’ll check back in with you again later.