I have no idea what I should be doing.
I was blessed with intelligence, but unfortunately I’m only intelligent enough to wish I were more intelligent. I have unlimited interests, but I’m not sure I have any real passion for anything. I have many talents, but I’m not truly gifted in anything.
Should I be working in formal employment? Should I be working on my children’s books and novels? Should I be embracing my media business? Should I be the little housewife?
The other day I went over to "E‘s" to see what she’s been doing to the inside of her house since I was last there. She has been real productive. Her attic is now serving as her bedroom while she works on the second floor master bath, bedroom, second bath, and two other bedrooms.
And her attic has become a showcase of her skills and talent. Hardwood flooring is down, walls and lights are in and finished, trim work is mostly done. It’s an awesome space that will become her studio once she moves down to her real bedroom.
And this?
E didn’t buy that — she made it. It’s her dining room ceiling light. She has a gift for elegant design with a bit of whimsy here and there. I don’t think this would work with my eclectic style (i.e. hodgepodge of stuff I’ve put in my house) but I love coming across things like this in E’s house.
This is a photograph I took a few years back that I want to make into a line drawing or water color:
I only took the picture to remember the sweetness of the little vase and roses (from Miss B) but it came out so nicely that I thought it would make a nice little piece of art for me to make on my own. This is one of the many projects I want to complete…
I’m even hodgepodge when it comes to things I photograph:
This is the view outside of my doctor’s office. I took the picture because I thought the area looked relaxing and I would have rather been out there instead in the waiting room.
TJ is doing well and like any feline he always wants to be in the last place you need him to be:
He’s still very small and adorable so we put up with him until he gets annoying — then we put him back in the big giant kid’s room so he can sleep all snuggly with him.
My husband is on vacation until the 6th of July beginning today. He’s taken off to be my un-complaining laborer and to sort through his stuff for keepers, donations, or trash.
Today we’ve not done a damn thing and I’m already thinking of a nap.
The hair cut is growing out and look who’s back!
They’re back! I missed ‘em. Did you?
This is the look I’m really going for, but I can’t remember how I did that hair cut:
But maybe I’ll go back to this look:
Or this one (after the Locks of Love donation):
One leads into the other, I guess…
I’ve just realized I’ve not got a neck in a lot of these pictures. I blame PhotoBooth!
"It."
I don’t get up at between 4:00 and 5:30 every day anymore. More like 5:30 to 7:00. I think maybe even the Lily puppy is enjoying my not having formal employment just now —- she’s sleeping in later!
So usually I have coffee and breakfast with my hubby and some time on the internet before he goes to work. I’m checking my email, facebook, twitter, and dooce community at least twice a day (sometimes I check dooce community more often — I like it best).
Afterwards I’ll do some writing (not just here, you know) and work on a couple of websites for a bit. Then I do a bit about the house before getting back on the computer to search for work at home jobs on the internet, etc. I’m applying for other jobs, too — but a work at home job is what I really want. Then maybe some more on the house and starting supper.
And some days Lily and I will walk more than once…
It’s been weeks and weeks since my last migraine (Woot!) my back has only ached a few times (instead of going out on me) and my knees only seem to hurt now and then, too. I do get headaches (prolly eye strain because of that cataract) so I do try to watch my time on the computer.
So yeah, right now my life is kinda dull. Dull is what I seem to need just now.
It looks like we’re driving to the big O tomorrow to visit our parents for a bit. I’m dreading the drive there and back, but I am looking forward to seeing my Dad. Mainly because I need an updated picture of him…
…taking a smoke at his kitchen table.
Especially when one considers that I took both of those photos with my old cell phone camera!
Okay, for the past three weeks I’ve felt like crap for one reason or another, but today I am giving all of that away.
I don’t know where it’s going to go, I only know I can’t carry it around anymore.
It doesn’t matter if my body aches from head to toe or my mind is wanting to escape, I"ve got to get back into my life.
Today I am going to work, but skipping the gym — gonna use that energy at the office today.
Today I restarting my food journal and staying on track.
Today I’m just going to get out there!
I love them, but remember when they were called names like "high waters," and we were teased for wearing them?
(A little poem)
Sitting in my parked car,
Just waiting to go to an appointment.
Two dump trucks drive past,
Big boys with big toys.
A girl…
In a summer dress and strappy sandals,
On a scooter,
Follows behind.
To work in such an old building with great and large windows to be opened on a day like today.
How do they do it? Day after day? Don’t they all live in a mind like mine?
Oxymoron: A Mini Cooper Wagon?
Ed McMahon, Farrah Fawcett, Michael Jackson.
Ed McMahon was 86 years old. 86 years is a long life. Hearing of his death was not a surprise because he was 86 years old.
Farrah Fawcett was 62 years old. 62 years old is not old. 62 years old is not young, but dying at 62 years is not a long life. Farrah Fawcett had a fatal disease. We knew her death was on the rise, so we were not shocked when we heard of her death this past Thursday. We knew she was sick, in pain, and dying. Our hope is that her dying ended her pain. We can’t know. So we hope.
Michael Jackson was 50 years old. 50 years old is still in the realm of a "young" age. Michael Jackson’s death came out of nowhere to us (much like the shocking news of Heath Ledger’s of last year). 50 years old is still young. And Michael Jackson has died. We hope his death brought him mental, emotional, and physical peace. We hope.
I am only 48 years old. I am not yet 50. 62 is still a long way from 48. I hope to live to 90 — 4 years longer than Ed MaMahon.
Yet I think of dying every day.
I have a mental illness that brings such thoughts to mind every day. Every day.
Every day.
Sometimes the thought passes. Sometimes it dwells. Sometimes it plans.
Always it hurts.
Even with medication the pain is still there. Medication helps. I think rationally. I know I don’t want to die. I plan for the future.
I work towards better health and fitness.
I work towards making my home an oasis.
I have a puppy.
I think of writing that book.
I think of the grandchild I don’t have yet.
I think of me and my husband, old, and taking late afternoon walks in our neighborhood.
And I think about death. Wondering what it would bring.
Would it bring me peace?
Only by dying will I know the answer.
If I knew… if I knew then maybe I wouldn’t think…
Not knowing is part of why I haven’t.
I don’t know where the end of my pain is and so I keep at trying to overcome it in this life.
This life of mine.
Is my mother at peace? My grandmother? A childhood friend?
I don’t know.
I struggle for peace in this life.
I struggle.
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