Morphine Mania

2015-11-072015-11-07 Miss Poison Life, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing Exhaustion, Fibromyalgia, Heart Surgery, Life, Musings, My Brother, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Recovery, Self-Care, Stress, Weekends, Writing

It’s no secret; I’ve had a rough two weeks dealing with a serious family emergency. If you’ve ever had to force a man (or any loved one) to go the hospital knowing that something was clearly NOT “okay”, perhaps you can relate.

My brother came out of surgery Thursday afternoon, a good three hours earlier than I anticipated based on the scheduling of the surgery itself. The look on my face when I saw the hospital’s phone number on my cell phone screen so early was scary; I wondered if I was about to be forced to make a medical decision on his behalf, but it was all good news. Surgeons in certain fields are a little too cocky for my taste. The better the school they go to, the cockier they seem to be. 😦 His surgeon told me how great he did (I wasn’t sure if he meant himself or my brother, the man was way too excited.) and that because he is young and healthy, he should be good to go after he heals. I’ve inherited a patient for the next 3-4 months once he’s discharged from the hospital. You can probably feel my enthusiasm from wherever you are reading this. People in Siberia can feel the warmth of that enthusiasm. I’m contemplating becoming an alcoholic in advance of his arrival.

My brother, when sick, is the world’s biggest pain in the ass. If he has an ear infection, I have to hear about it non-stop and deal with his whining. I could have headphones on and still hear him bitching from ten miles away. Post-surgery brother, which is an absolute first, is going to drive me to new levels of insanity. Feel free to send plenty of bottles of wine and hard liquor my way. My “water bottle” might very well have vodka in it later today.

He called me yesterday morning after they removed the tube they left in overnight because they were afraid he’d rip it out, and not only did he sound insane, but he openly admitted he couldn’t feel anything because they have him on a high dose of morphine. He told a nurse “Sure, take blood. I can’t feel my arms.” NICE. There’s nothing I enjoy more than hearing someone repeat themselves ten times in less than thirty minutes. Even better, he said he wasn’t repeating himself as he disclosed details of his surgery that I simply did NOT need to hear about. I don’t know him that well, he doesn’t need to share every single thing with me. 😛

In my brother’s infinite wisdom, he gave me a list of errands to run for him. However, he left out crucial information, like where he keeps certain things and how I can access them. Welcome to the land of the paranoid boy. “Do this…”, but apparently I don’t need to know HOW, I just need to “get it done”. I am shaking my head at the stupidity of it all, and the fact that I went to four different places to handle this crap. I can’t decide if I’m stupid or insane. By the time I got home last night, I had dinner and went to bed, and this morning there is not a single part of my body that doesn’t hurt like hell.

I did everything earlier than I anticipated so that Monday, once all the tubes come out, I can go to the hospital for a while, and perhaps then, I will be let it on the secret as to where all the other documents are so that I can copy, print, scan, and fax/ e-mail them to the necessary parties. I’ve seen a LOT in my life medically, but there are some things my brain does not need branded in it for life. I’m banned from his room until the tubes come out, as he’s afraid I will pass out and/or throw up on someone. I have NO idea why he thinks I’m some sheltered little creature. Far from it. However, he said he’d prefer that I not see him as he is now, but that I can come once he looks like a “normal human-being again”, whatever that looks like.

Things are all pointing in good directions for him health-wise at the moment, but I can tell that recovery will be slow. It makes me sick that he’s coughing and is in so much pain from every movement. I understand pain far more than he will ever realize, but I have been lucky to avoid surgery, despite one major hospital stay.

He can’t do anything for 12 weeks upon being discharged from the hospital, but he said he’d give the paperwork to me so I can A) Read everything and B) Learn about his new diet. Subtlety at its finest. 😦 I offered to make him homemade chicken soup this weekend and bring him some on Monday, but he refused, saying it was “too much work”. It’s roughly a few hours of letting the flavors simmer before I pull the chicken out, but if he’s going to be on an all liquid diet for a week or two, nothing is better than homemade soup. It soothes the soul and heals the body, or at least mine does. Then he told me it likely has too much salt in it, which was downright insulting (No one has EVER accused me of that!), so I will bring him something else once he decides what he wants. His vocal cords are going to take some time to heal, so for now, he’s asking for some pretty weird things, but I am happy to bring them if they will make him feel better. If I can keep his mouth full, it might even keep him quiet. 😉

I am glad to have this weekend to rest my body. Even after a night’s worth of sleep, I’d gladly go back to bed and snuggle with Cat, who returned to her spot in bed as soon as she finished her breakfast. She looks so warm and cuddly in her twisted upside down position while she purrs. There is something about watching Cat and Kitten in their restful states that often makes me sleepy, perhaps it’s how calm and relaxed they are in the safety of their home. Of course, Kitten just got smacked for jumping up on the bed and checking on her. As she has grown in size, Cat has become less amused by her antics. There is a definite balance between play and slumber. If she feels Kitten is getting out of hand or acting out of turn, she will smack her gently, to let her know she’s not in the mood. Kitten is still a baby in so many ways, so she will either smack her back and force her to engage in play, or walk away sad, which is precisely when she looks at me as if to say “Mommy, she’s being mean to me.” She defers to her ‘older sister’, but she won’t take crap from her either. They have watched over me these past two weeks while I’ve been in various stages of upset, and cared for me when I’ve felt sick myself. This is a great benefit of raising little creatures that unconditionally love you. People, I find, are too fickle to truly offer that level of love.

Since my original plans for this weekend are no longer valid, anyone who sees SPECTRE needs to let me know how they enjoyed it. Feel free to send me spoilers as well, since I have to pre-order it on Blu-Ray which won’t happen ’til next year. I absolutely HATE missing another Bond movie opening weekend. 😦 If you know me well, you know why.

And so, I am off to begin “the weekend” in some fashion. I’ve been up for hours, but haven’t made any definitive decisions as to what I will do. For now, I think Self-Care needs to be a priority.

Wishing you all an enjoyable, happy, & safe weekend. Do something fun! 🙂

Fog

2015-11-052015-11-05 Miss Poison Honesty, Life, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing Compassion, Heart Surgery, Honesty, Life, My Brother, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Poor Communication Skills, Stress, Writing

When I went to bed this morning, the fog was pretty dense behind my house. It rolled in out of nowhere. I think it’s a metaphor for what I am going through at the moment. “It happened out of nowhere.” Yeah, that sounds about right.

I feel nothing. I’m an ocean-cleansed shell. For almost two weeks now, I’ve continued to say “I’m fine.” I’ve probably been saying that for longer than I realize. “I’m okay” or “I’m fine” are often the truth, but sometimes it’s me dismissing myself when I shouldn’t. I didn’t have to pay someone to tell me that in therapy either, I am working it out on my own.

Today is “Surgical Thursday”, and I feel NOTHING. When someone takes their anger, frustration, and fear out on you systematically over the course of several days, weeks, months, years, etc., you slowly lose the ability to give a shit. You might very well care, but today, I’m choosing not to invest emotion into what is happening.

My dear Uncle used to say “It is what it is.” I’d like to interpret that as “Let it go.” It’s much like Glinda, the Good Witch of the North saying “You have no power here. Be gone, before someone drops a house on you!”

Today, I am going to do my level best to focus on things I neglected yesterday. I am tired of being on the phone for hours, of texting until my fingers ache, and of updating people when it’s not my responsibility to do so.

I politely asked my brother to have the surgeon call me after the procedure is over (he is the last surgery of the day, so I wasn’t asking for a miracle. It is commonplace for a surgeon to call the family if they cannot be present or speak to the family if they’re in the surgical waiting room.), so I’d know how it went. He dismissed me and said he’d call me himself. I think he’s over-reaching his expectations on that level. The kid thinks I’m going to be his caretaker/caregiver for many months of recovery. He’s wrong. Disrespect me once; shame on you. Disrespect me twice and you can go fuck yourself. When I hang up on a person twice in one day, it’s not because they’ve been polite and kind, it’s likely because they’ve been an asshole.

When I spoke to Case Study #2 last night, I vocalized this and he said “Then you don’t have to. You’re not obligated to take care of anyone who cannot see all the good that you do. You don’t need to be abused for caring and showing compassion. If someone cannot clearly see you, then they do not deserve you.” You might very well know all of that inside your soul, but having that reaffirmed by someone, at times, is quite gratifying. Everyone else has told me “You’re exhausted, you need to eat and take care of you.”, but no one was willing to address the fact that I don’t deserve hostility. I only have so much compassion before I shut down and say “Enough.”

Concern and compassion don’t come from selfish, self-serving places. They come from a place of genuineness. If someone repeatedly shows you that they do not respect that, or you, it’s perfectly fine to say “Fuck off!” (Or whatever you, personally, prefer to say.)

And so my day begins… There is writing to be done and creativity to unleash. Here’s hoping it is a productive day for one and all. If you are participating in NaNoWriMo, I wish you oodles of good luck. 🙂

Personally, I’m certain that over a hundred thousand quality words come out of my mouth on a daily basis, but that doesn’t mean they’re there for free. 😉

Sleep Deprived

2015-11-03 Miss Poison Honesty, Life, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing Health, Heart Surgery, Honesty, Life, Musings, My Brother, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Sleep Deprivation, Writing

I spent Sunday running on less than three hours of sleep. As you can imagine, it was an incredibly long day. I pushed myself to go to the hospital. I was surprised I wasn’t in and out in twenty minutes, as hospitals are more than a little traumatic for me. I managed to stay for quite a while. It was, quite possibly, a first. It might have been because the CICU rooms are private (another first), it might have been because it’s practically empty in there (It might very well have been the quietest hospital I’ve ever been to.), or it might have simply been a week’s worth of stress and concern relieved, to some extent, when I saw that there weren’t fifteen different contraptions hooked up to one person. Normally when I see that, I never see the person alive again. In fact, my brother has already informed all of the surgeons, doctors, and nurses NOT to allow me in if he’s hooked up to a multitude of devices. He’s afraid I’ll lose it.

As of yesterday, my brother is stable, but they’re trying to adjust his medication because he is losing electrolytes at a rapid pace, which is based solely on the medication he is receiving. Tests are being run in earnest so that they can move forward with surgery. Initially it was scheduled for this morning, but late yesterday afternoon a doctor came in and told him it was canceled so they can monitor him for several more days and adjust his medication before moving forward. That information was jarring. First he told me “Surgery is at 7:00 tomorrow morning.” and a few hours later he tells me it’s been canceled and explains why. I went through a myriad of emotions that were quite exhausting. Now obviously, this isn’t about me, but I am still greatly affected. His mood is better, and he was really happy to see me. He said it gave him strength to face what is coming.

Now that I know the direction they’re taking, I realize how sleep deprived I am from last week, and in general. I grocery shopped Sunday afternoon like a staggering zombie. I wasn’t entirely sure what I was buying, either. I saw a list in front of me and I got most of what was on the list (I still have to go back in a few days and get everything I couldn’t handle in the moment.), which I realized yesterday morning, but I was truly not functioning on all cylinders. I’m so stressed that I require reminders to eat, or I’ll simply feed Cat and Kitten and ignore my own body’s needs.

Cats aren’t on Daylight Saving Time, which is an adjustment for us humans. They’re waking me incredibly early (two hours or so earlier than normal.) to be fed, they’re asking for “dinner” at 3:00 in the afternoon, and Cat likes to screw with me by walking away from her food at least once a day. She patiently waits for me to “serve” them and then runs and hides as I try to scoop her up and put her in front of her plate. I can only catch her if she wants to be caught. She’ll wait a few hours and then roll a ball into my room while I work or drop a toy at the door. She’ll stare at me with her big, gold eyes and implore me to understand that I need to stay with her while she eats, that she requires protection from “the little one”. I picked Kitten up the other day to let her know her behavior was unacceptable and inform her that she’d already eaten and needs to leave her sister alone so that she can eat her own food in peace. She’s not “little” any more. The kitten behavior remains in her energy, curiosity, affection, and sweetness, but she felt like a small sack of potatoes. She could easily pass for a small turkey if she sits the right way and yet I will probably learn in a few months when she gets her shots that she’s about ten pounds. That’s the normal weight and size she should be for now. Her energy and weight will adjust and she’ll either remain the same weight or lose a pound or two. Torties are like thoroughbred horses (some, not all). Their running, jumping, troublesome, adventurous natures do not stop as they get older. Their personalities are more human, but they seem to take the whole “nine lives” thing seriously and do their level best to test them out. You either have a stroke watching this behavior or you get used to it. I try not to react too much since she is my second Tortie. Surprisingly, they are quite similar in many ways.

This week, despite only being Tuesday, feels like a cosmic joke. I write, I take care of normal things, but I’m not truly present in any way. There are always e-mails, phone calls, and texts at the moment. There are friends and family overseas that are deeply concerned and feeling guilty that they’re not present. I did not tell a lot of family members because it was against my brother’s express wishes and quite frankly, they don’t need to know. If people don’t care about you year-round, then they should not be allowed to lap up your pain and misery simply because it makes them feel superior in some way. I don’t understand people like that. I don’t find anyone’s pain amusing. I still have compassion. And sadly, if any of these people needed me, I’m not 100% sure I’d make myself available any more. The people who are always there for me know my heart and they know I’d take a bullet for them, but anyone that cannot stand by me in good and bad times, whether we are blood-related or not, needs to fuck off.

I’m not very receptive to excuses. In life and death matters, people should be present. My Aunt told me her children (my first cousins, all of whom should know better, but apparently my brother & I are the only ones that inherited brains.) didn’t attend my parent’s funerals because their children were sick. We’re not talking about infants, so my thought process was “Then ask a neighbor, a friend, or a fucking babysitter to watch them for two hours. You do NOT pretend like your Uncle and Aunt didn’t pass away, and by all that is holy, do NOT show up a year later and pretend like I am going to accept your presence as acceptable behavior.” If I don’t go to a funeral, it is probably because I wasn’t given enough notice, not because I am being disrespectful. You don’t ask a third-party to e-mail me about a funeral. That’s not how you do things like that. And if you do, screw you, I won’t be there.

My brother isn’t as fierce as I am. If a person doesn’t call or visit him in the hospital, he doesn’t take it personally. He told me last night that only a handful of people matter, and that I’m the one who matters the most, no one else. Even still, it makes me angry that the people who should be supporting him are not. You definitely see people’s true colors during hard times, but the truth is much more easily faked during good times. I don’t respond well to that. I know when people aren’t being genuine. There’s a huge difference between being nosy and legitimately caring about another person’s well-being.

And so, I have reached a “point of no return”. I’d rather cut the herd now, as opposed to continue dealing with fake crap. There are a few people who are about to be torn new assholes, and quite frankly, it doesn’t bother me in the least. No one deserves to deal with people who spew crap out of two different ends. No one.

I know many of you can relate to the family and friend dynamics I am talking about. It’s disgusting, but I think overall, we are all better off cutting people out that are cancers in our lives.

Hanging By A Very Fine Thread

2015-10-312015-10-31 Miss Poison Life, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing Halloween, Heart Health, Life, My Brother, October, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Samhain, Saturdays, Stress, Surgery, Writing

I think what little is left of my sanity snapped Thursday afternoon when I received word that my brother will likely need open heart surgery, providing he is a viable candidate. If that is not an option, he will require a heart transplant. These are the kinds of words that make you want to sink into the earth.

During his last physical his doctor said his heart was healthy and strong, she was very pleased with the results from all of his tests, so I’m asking myself how things got so bad, so quickly. In turn, it’s making me wonder if my heart is a ticking time bomb, despite being told that I “have the heart of an 18 year old”. What does that even mean to doctors?! How can you trust them? Much like lawyers, I’m starting to suspect they’re all in it for the money, minus the few good doctors I do know who are caring, kind, and give 110% to their patients. Why help people when you can simply get paid?! Thank GOD I did not become a doctor or a lawyer. I would not be able to look at myself in the mirror in either profession. 😦

I have been advised to begin genetic testing to find out “what’s in my future” due to this occurrence. I’m much more inclined to look into a crystal ball.. The fact of the matter is, we all inherit good and bad genes. All of us, no one is genetically perfect. I do not want to play G-d with myself. I can understand if I showed signs of something questionable, but I don’t, so the subject matter makes me incredibly uncomfortable. I have already had to tell a family member, more than once, to back off with the know-it-all crap. All I want and need at the moment is emotional support.

My move is temporarily postponed until I know what is happening and exactly how things will proceed. I can’t, in good faith, leave my brother behind in a hospital bed and say “See ya!” That’s not who I am. I know some people would do precisely that, and I am sure someone, somewhere will think that I am a moron for staying behind to take care of him, but I’m not heartless. Surgery will require approximately six months of healing time post-op, and he will need someone to be here for him, even though I won’t be able to do every single thing he might need. If immediate surgery is not the option he & his doctors choose, if things turn to a different type of surgery, like a transplant, I honestly don’t know what I will do.

I can’t spend even 30 minutes inside a hospital. They make me sick and drive me insane. I spent years taking care of my parents when they were ill, and I would not have been able to move or do any of the things I wanted to do at the time knowing that they were sick and needed me. I would have been too far away in an emergency, so this poses a problem for me now as well. I feel bad that I am not with him 24/7. Unfortunately, it did start a fight as to whether or not I “care”. 😦 He does not seem to realize or understand my true value in his life. I have done everything I can to support him through this and be a good sister. I’ve never not been a good sister, I’m not about to start now, but I’m not going to take crap from someone simply because they’re lonely, grouchy, and going through nicotine withdrawal.

When he was in recovery Thursday afternoon at a new hospital he was transferred to, a nurse came to tell him that I had called and was “very worried about him” and that he needed to call me back “right away”. When he asked me about that later on I said “I did not say that.” I hadn’t. I simply tried tracking him down and it took forever once we got disconnected since cell reception in that portion of the hospital is damn near nonexistent. He looked at her when she said it and immediately thought “That doesn’t sound like MY sister. She wouldn’t say that.” I might not verbalize the worry, but obviously I’m not okay about this situation. It’s upsetting and disturbing on more levels than I care to discuss. Who the hell would be okay with it?!

In situations like this, technology is a wonderful thing, though I don’t think I need all the hospital selfies, but I promise to put them in a photo album to show all his future girlfriends. 😉 No, he doesn’t read this.

I realized Friday morning, when he threw me out of bed after less than two hours of sleep because he was finally awake, bored, lonely, and obscenely chatty, that I can’t sit for three plus hours on the phone every single night because he’s awake, though I am glad he is finally resting. Every time my phone buzzes, I jump like I’ve been bitten by a snake. I have the ringer off on the landline because every sound it makes is horrible to my ears. Precisely who makes ringtones for landlines? I want to know. My cell phone isn’t much better. It’s not my personal ringtone choices that bother me, it’s the noise itself. Unless I’m out in public, my phone is always on vibrate. Last night I decided to turn on the “Do Not Disturb” feature on my phone and allow myself to sleep, even if it wasn’t a full night. I knew I needed the silence as I try handling a migraine that has lasted for over two days and the stress of this past week. Up until the last second, he was still arguing with me via text. I cannot deal with that level of crazy. I have my limits.

And yet, it is eerily quiet when my brother is not around talking to Cat and Kitten, slamming my doors, inspecting my refrigerator and cabinets for goodies, blasting baseball or football, asking ridiculous questions, etc. He is the person people see nine times out of ten because I am often in too much pain to do anything outside beyond walking to and from the car.

I am almost certain I scared the crap out of a neighbor when I went outside to bring my garbage can and recycling bin in so that neither of them would go rolling down the street due to the wind. I saw him and his dog coming toward me, he did not see me walking down the driveway, and by the time he looked up, I thought he was going to have a heart attack. As per usual, 99% of the neighbors do not speak to me, and he was no different. They live in the house that drove me nuts for months with the incredibly noisy add-on. On the plus side, the dog didn’t jump on me or bark, always a sign of good training. I honestly didn’t know anyone on the street close enough to me had a dog any more, that’s how quiet this one is. Or perhaps he was simply happy to be out on a walk. I later learned from my brother that he sees this guy walking the dog “at all hours”. He then proceeded to tell me that I’d know who he was if I was not a hermit. LOL. Sue me for minding my own fucking business!

This weekend I am going to attempt to tackle a few things. One, get my brother’s car from the first hospital’s parking lot. Two, try to get over to the hospital with some clean clothes so he will stop bitching (Don’t ask me when I became a maid, because I can assure you that the “pay” on this “job” sucks dishwater.). Three, get groceries. It took me about an hour to realize that the “Shop From Home” app is a piece of shit. I suppose it works fine if you buy the same things every single time you shop, but if you can’t offer me fresh vegetables & fruit with accuracy unless they’re on sale in your current ad, that doesn’t work for me. There is a long list of things you can’t purchase unless it’s in the ad or listed on the site, and it could take longer to compose a list for delivery than it would to simply go and shop myself. An on-line list should not take two hours. Call me crazy, but it should be easier to navigate. I certainly don’t need to pay anyone $20, before a tip, to put an order together and deliver it to me from five minutes up the road. That’s wasteful beyond words.

Everything I need to do should be simple enough, but it isn’t. I am enlisting one of his friends for some help because I’m not superwoman at the moment. If someone can pitch in and throw me a bone to make things easier, that will make a huge difference in my eyes. I hate asking for help, but my brother has driven me insane this week and I’m on my last nerve. I can’t deal with any more of his crankiness. All I can do is my best, if he doesn’t like it, tough titty said the kitty.

I’ve been so stressed and distracted that I damn near forgot it was Halloween. Enjoy trick-or-treating with your kiddos or simply enjoy the holiday aspect for yourself. I know plenty of people who love giving out sweets to everyone that comes knocking tonight. I spare myself the aggravation (I used to really be into it, and perhaps that will happen next year when I am feeling more in the spirit of things.), and I truly have more important things to focus on tonight, but I still hope it is happy and safe for everyone partaking.

If you need me, I’ll be running around like a chicken without its head, but I swear, it’s not a blood ritual of any kind. It’s mere insanity.

iendalot — I don’t bother filtering. I use the word “asshole”.

Boxes, Hospitals, & The Immovable Insomniac

2015-10-29 Miss Poison Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing All Saints' Day, Boxes, Cat and Kitten, Dia de los Muertos, Exhaustion, Halloween, Insomnia, Migraines, Moving, Musings, My Brother, October, Packing, Poison In Lethal Doses, Rain, Samhain, Stress, Writing

I scored boxes at my local liquor store Monday afternoon. If you’d seen them piled up in the backseat of my car, you would have thought I was throwing the party of the century.

For those that told me Barnes & Noble would not only have boxes, but happily give them to me; you’re all wrong. I called them and was slightly disgusted by their “policy” regarding boxes they’re only going to end up having to recycle. Other places are much more willing to hold large boxes for me as soon as they receive deliveries. Everyone else is seemingly re-using a single box 4-5 times until the boxes fall apart completely. I totally understand reuse, it’s common sense, but I also think it’s overkill for the people who have to work at the distribution centers and those that deliver. Use any box too many times and it will break; this is a fact.

And yet, with all these boxes, I can barely move because I overdid it Monday. I managed to get a bruise on my hand, of all places. I suspect this is the first of many more to come. 😦 I hurt so bad in my neck, shoulders, back, and legs that I’d give a lot to sit somewhere and watch someone else do all of this work. Don’t get me wrong, I would happily water them, feed them, and give them regular breaks. I’m not a slave driver.

Moving is very difficult, and it’s made harder when you’re on a creative streak, but when you’re on an emotional streak as well? It’s super difficult, to say the least. My brain was utterly devoid of complicated thought for many hours yesterday because there are too many stressful things going on at once. I have no idea when I am going to shut down or kick into high gear, but I sense a change in the wind.

My brother’s health is currently at a stand-still in terms of what is and isn’t being done. The procedure he was supposed to have done yesterday was put off. I received a text after 11:00 a.m. to let me know they might not be able to get him in at all due to so many emergencies concerning people in worse shape. This progressed until they finally decided they’d let him eat. We later learned from the lab techs that he was low man on the totem pole because so many heart attacks and catastrophic heart patients came in after he did. That makes sense, but now he is being tested for additional problems. 😦 This is precisely when my brother becomes a PITA (Pain In The Ass) patient.

He has sent me photos and video. Granted, one video was for Cat, because she’s searching for him. She’s moping and pining because her boyfriend isn’t here to tell her how pretty, sweet, and good she is. She IS a beautiful cat, and she’s very sweet, but their relationship borders on nauseating at times. I was in bed at 8:15 last night and she threw me out of bed several hours later simply because she was A) Bored, B) Hungry and refusing to eat, and/or C) In search of her favorite man. Why should I sleep when complicated cat emotions need to be tended to?

It’s good that I’m awake though. I can do some things around the house, take out the recycling as soon as it stops raining, and try to focus on packing my linen closet and a few things in my bathroom. The smaller the room, the easier I can handle it, focus, and get it done, or at least that’s what I keep telling myself. If I start now, I will have an additional bag or two for pickup. I put one out last night, but it was just normal stuff as opposed to ” I threw it all away!” stuff. There’s a difference in the weight.

Of course, the more I sit here writing, thinking, the more I realize how physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausted I am. There should be a nurse standing over me, forcing me to bed with all sorts of pills and liquids. Alas, there is not.

The only noise is the rain and the wind. Cat is sleeping a few feet away to my right, with her ears pointed in my direction. I have no idea where Kitten is hiding, but I know she’s not far. That little bug is never far away from Mommy or sister, which is kind of nice. 🙂 Now if I could get a handle on these migraines, that would be fantastic, but we all know that increased stress is going to increase the amount of migraines I get. Unless I am able to fully take a breath and calm down, they’re going to keep up their insane ways. Never a dull moment, but man am I praying for one!

I don’t know what these next few days hold, but if I’m silent, please know that I wish everyone a happy & safe Halloween, a blessed Samhain, a festive Dia de los Muertos, and a peaceful All Saints’ Day. If you don’t celebrate any of the aforementioned, have a piece of candy and chill.