Saturday, Dad and I ventured out to our favorite Mexican restaurant. I called ahead to placed the order and we took advantage of their curbside service! It went off without a hitch! We wore our masks and the server did as well. The food wasn’t hot by the time we got home but that was to be expected. We live about an hour away, after all. The car smelled heavenly all the way home!
Since it was 5 months to the day since we had been there, the food tasted absolutely wonderful! We hadn’t had someone else’s cooking since March! Saturday was once our usual day out pre-Covid19. Since we have to presume this to be our new normal, at least for the next year or so, we are going to try and go back for curbside service each weekend, or at least every other weekend. This staying at home bullshit is driving me mad.
To counteract the “madness” we stopped and got a bottle of Kahlua Mudslide. I need to be careful though, as I nearly fell last night getting ready for bed. I haven’t had Mudslide in over 5 months so it hit me rather hard!
When we got home, Jack decided to try and make a break for it. It will be 2 years mid-December since Jack has been an inside cat. He hasn’t been very happy about that and I suspect he’s a bit depressed. I can relate to that feeling even though it’s only been 5 months for me and Dad! Anyway, he dashed out the door when he saw his opportunity. He’s such a dope; he stopped to pee on Dad’s riding mower and when Dad called to him, he came lickety-split. Jack was stuck inside, yet again. Like I said, he’s a big dope.
I’m trying to get my creative juices flowing again… It’s rather difficult to concentrate on anything other than “the ills of the country” and I know I’m not alone, but Saturday also marked the 12th anniversary of my blog. It would be nice to actually be able to write. I guess I’m writing now but it just isn’t sitting well with me. I’ve already re-read and revised this post 7 times. Of course, I’ve never considered myself a writer. Some day maybe, but not today.
I’m really having a difficult time writing consistently in my blog. The problem is, that I’ve nothing to write about. Well, not unless you count me complaining about this, that, or the other! I don’t want to do that – it drives readers away. Forgive this post, please; it’s just a bit of complaining but it can’t be helped as it’s the way I’m feeling.
Prior to March 15, I could go get my hair cut & colored, take the cats for their immunizations, get my eyes checked, take the car for service or a tire rotation, go to Walmart, the bank, the grocery store, and take Dad for any appointments he may have made. There were countless other things we could do in addition to our weekly outing for lunch. Those times we went out – for whatever reason – gave me experiences and ideas for writing. (They may not have been good ideas, but still…) Now, the only experiences we gain are when we go to the drive thru at the liquor store, bank or pharmacy. Hardly a reason to come home and write!
I feel ‘stuck’ sitting at home. I have nothing to look forward to. Before this pandemic, I looked forward to going to whatever appointments we had lined up or even to Walmart. (Imagine that.) I looked forward to my son, daughter in law, and grandson coming to visit. I looked forward to lunch with my Dad once a week. Now, I’m afraid that will have to wait because Covid-19 cases in my county and surrounding counties are going up. The numbers are still very low compared to most of the country but still a cause for concern.
Being disabled has me at an extreme disadvantage. Had this pandemic happened 10-12 years ago I’d be out hiking, bird watching, gardening, cooking, preserving veggies from my garden, creating soaps and bath products, among other things. I can’t do any of those things now so it’s terribly depressing. I’ve spent the last decade not only trying to get medical assistance, but also trying to reinvent myself. That’s not going quite as well as I had planned and now it’s at a stand-still.
My days now consist of the “same shit – different day” and quite honestly, I’m surprised I even know today is Monday Tuesday? I spend my days updating on social media, reading blogs, placing orders for the week, and doing a few quick chores. I watch a little TV, read a few chapters in a book, crochet, fix quick foods for Dad and myself, and giving each of my cats a good brushing. I sit at the computer waiting for inspiration and/or motivation to write. Nothing comes to me. I turn on some music. That’s no help. I search for writing prompts that strike me as interesting…but either nothing appeals to me or I start writing something, only to save it and walk away disgusted with my writing skills. I can’t even find the motivation to write about my ex for The Ex-Files!
One day at a time…as they say. Someone told me to give myself a break. I’m doing that; taking a break from social media, and TV for a week, maybe longer. I’ll do my best to just chill and let the ideas flow, but no promises.
What do you do to keep the ideas flowing? What inspires you to write these days? I hope you’re having a better time writing that I have been!
Have you ever thought of what you would do if you were suddenly rich? My lifestyle wouldn’t really change much except for the fact that I’d live more comfortably than I am now. I’d still live a simple life because I don’t need a lot to make me happy.
It was difficult to put things in order but I did it according to a) necessity, b) community service, and c) desire. What would your list look like?
~~~
1.Necessity: I would have a new house built to my specifications and trust me, it is an absolute necessity because our current house has many problems, including a crumbling foundation! Our new house would be handicap accessible, spacious and functional. By spacious I don’t mean big. I mean room to get around comfortably and many cabinets, shelves, and closets. There would be ample counter top space in the kitchen and bathroom.
2. Necessity: I would have my knee surgery because I’d have the money to pay for the best surgeons! I’d have the money to pay for physical therapy before and after surgery, and I’d also be able to pay for in-home help while I’m recovering. The in-home help would also help with taking care of my Dad.
3. Necessity: I would definitely help my children and their families get ahead in life. I’d set up college funds for each of my 4 grandchildren, and future grandchildren, as well. I’d help my sisters and their families with whatever they’d need help with.
4. Community Service: I would donate to local charities to help my community. I would seek out the neediest children in my community and provide what they need; clothing, coats, shoes, etc., and if their families had a hard time paying their electric bill, then I’d be able to help them with that, too.
5. Community Service: I would love to be in the position to feed the hungry, no matter where they are. No one should go hungry in this country, regardless of their employment status or anything else.
6. Desire: In my home, I’d have a library! One large room, with room for a few tables and chairs for the grandchildren to do homework, and for me to do my writing and research.
7. Desire: I’d have a nice yard with a crew to come in the do the landscaping and maintenance. Let’s not forget a nice space for a raised garden. If I got my knees fixed then I’d be doing most of the gardening myself! Except the weeding…I hate pulling weeds!
8.Desire & Community Service: I’d open a Pet Rescue for dogs and cats. They’d all be spayed and neutered and get medical treatment, and re-homed to caring families! I’d recruit volunteers to give the animals attention, and I would pay several veterinarians for their services.
9. Desire: I’d finally get my Mercury Cougar! It would be a beautiful shade of purple with black interior. It would be the most comfortable ride in the county!
10. Desire: This is last on my list because I really don’t have to go, but I’d take a trip to the UK. I’d spend the most time in Scotland, of course. I don’t know why Scotland has my heart but it’s been this way for many years. It calls to me, so I feel if I get the chance to go, I must. Perhaps it should be a necessity then? Hmm…
~~~
Other than those things, my life would be about the same. I’m not very social anymore, so there won’t be any partying. My tastes aren’t too extravagant so furnishings won’t cost a fortune. I don’t want or need fancy clothes or expensive jewelry. I’m not looking to impress anyone, never have been that way. I just want to live my life in comfort, but not in the way rich people live. Just simple, down-to-earth comfort. I want to contribute to society and perhaps make someone else’s life a little easier, too. I just want it to be easier to be me.
Happy Birthday to me! Yesterday I turned…nevermind. I’m still under 60, let’s leave it at that. I’m old enough to have experienced some major bullshit that no woman should ever have to go through but I’m still kicking! That blasted menopause and all that comes with her and old age can kiss my ever lovin’ ass.
Yay me, another birthday.
It’s not bad enough I have arthritis but I also have bone and joint damage in my knees so that makes exercise nearly impossible. I can barely walk, or stand upright for fuck’s sake. Thanks to my doctor at the time, I didn’t get any help early on to slow the progression, so it just got worse and worse. When I finally found a good doctor, the damage was done.
Groaning and creaking is now the language of my people.
Then menopause marches into my life. That bitch. I was happy to no longer have a monthly cycle but I can do without the continued hot flashes, chills, night sweats, weight gain, moodiness (Who? Me? Moody?), not to mention the weight gain and sleep problems. I’ve already had enough of that but why not add more? While you’re at it, Ms. Menopause Bitch, you might as well slow my energy and metabolism down even more than it was already. I just have one question: When will you be finished with me?
If menopause had a face…
Getting older has its perks; discounts, grand kids, wisdom, more empathy, clearer priorities, less drama, knowing our worth, and not putting up with less than we deserve, etc. But I don’t think I deserve all the crap splattered on me as I’ve grown older.
Perks include drinking all the damn alcohol you want!
I’m even starting to look like an old lady. My youth is gone. I’m a grandmother. Thanks, kids. YOU made me old. Just kidding. But seriously, I look in the mirror and I don’t recognize the person looking back at me. All those wrinkles and the sagging jowls make me look like someone else! The gray hair I can cover – that is, I used to cover. I haven’t been to the hairdresser since early March. I don’t see myself going anytime soon, either. Stupid 2020.
I swear, I have looked in the mirror and acted this very same way!
My bladder is a royal pain in the… bladder. I have to get up every 2 hours at night and it’s pretty much the same during the day. Before coronavirus, every time I left the house, the trip was planned around where the damn bathrooms were located! I think I know of every stinkin’ handicap accessible bathroom for 100 miles in all directions!
Doesn’t work that way!
It’s hard enough having to rely on a cane or crutch to get around but using them leaves me with only one available hand for carrying things or doing a quick task. On top of that, my hands are clumsy. I knock shit over, drop things on the floor, spill every stinkin’ time, and I swear if I drop one more thing today, I’ll scream! I can’t open packaging of any kind without scissors. I miss the trash can every damn time. I’m shocked that I can still crochet!
This isn’t far from the truth!
I have age spots and calcium deposits starting to pop up. My skin is drier than the Mojave Desert, regardless of the brand or type of moisturizer I use. It doesn’t even matter how much I slather on or how often! Ugh!
I swear, if my skin gets any drier, you’ll be seeing particles swooshing on the surface like in the desert wind.
I have CRS (Can’t Remember Shit). My brain can’t seem to stay focused because it’s focused on my pain and getting me from point A to point B without falling, so by the time I get to point B, I’ve forgotten what I was going to do. I shit you not. I try to remember everything in one trip but it never fails, I forget something. I’ve been told to write things down, make a list. You think I haven’t thought of that? I have lists all over the damn house!
I swear, I write down everything and still forget!
My eyes are going kaput. I need new glasses but I’m not going to the eye doctor until this virus is gone or we have vaccinations. I remind myself of the old-time glasses for people who couldn’t see their hand in front of their faces. Remember how thick the lenses were? I see myself wearing those eventually.
I might be able to see again someday!
I’m sick of crazy hair growing in the weirdest places. Like one solitary hair growing out of the middle of my forehead…or the one that grows out from under my chin. Wtf is up with that? I’m constantly looking for them but I seem to only find them when they’re an inch long. Then there are the ingrown and course hairs that grow above my lip. It’s like Mother Nature thinks I’m a man and that I need a mustache to keep my lip warm.
Good thing my ‘mustache’ isn’t this dark!
I’m shrinking. I was never very tall in the first place. Well, in Elementary school I was one of the tallest kids in school at 5’3″. The problem is, I never got any taller than I was in the 6th freakin’ grade! I have lost a little over an inch. I can’t reach, even on my tippy-toes some things that were never that big of a deal before. I can’t even get the laundry out of the washing machine because the drum is too deep. I just can’t reach!
I’m not quite this short!
On the bright side, I still have my own teeth, and my hearing is still somewhat okay; unless of course, you try to tell me something from the other room facing the opposite direction, while the tv is turned up, the water is running because I’m washing dishes, and the washing machine and dryer are also running. Then I can’t hear for shit. Just ask Dad.
Are you talking?
I write this with much exaggeration and cynicism but I know it’s just the way it is and there’s nothing I can do about getting older. As much as I despise my body for turning on me so soon, I still like the person I have become. I’m strong, and I’m smart. I know how to do a lot of things; I just can’t do many of them. I’m honest. I’m grateful. I’m a loyal friend but I’m not afraid to let go of friendships that harm my mental health. I’m a good person. I’m still not going to act my age, no matter how old I feel. I’m still going to laugh at inappropriate times at inappropriate things. (Like farts. Farts are funny.) I like my sense of humor. I might be old but I still have a lot to offer. I’m still fucking awesome!
I can only hope to be as cool as Betty White!
A good friend told me the other day, “Embrace your battle scars. You’re a survivor.” She also told me to not dwell on the bad stuff. Good thing she doesn’t live close or she’d kick my ass after reading this post! In all seriousness though, I am a survivor; I don’t feel like one most days but I still manage to pick myself up and give another day a good run for its money…
So, Happy Birthday to me! Maybe I’ll make it to 102 years old and still be laughing like this old gal!
I woke up this morning with one eye stuck shut. I must have looked like Lucille Ball in that episode with the pickle! I started thinking about how Monday is such a drag, even though I don’t (can’t) work. Most people hate Mondays because it’s the beginning of their workweek. Me? Well, I just feel like I can’t trust Mondays anymore.
Then this song popped into my head, not really an earworm, just a friendly reminder of the lyrics… 🎵 “Monday, Monday…Can’t trust that day.” 🎵 Here’s the entire song; a blast from the past! Enjoy!
I hope your 4th of July weekend was fun but safe. Wishing you all the best this first Monday of July. This year can’t get any worse, can it?
Being Aunt Debbie 