Sometimes, the most difficult part of writing is creating the title.  So I skipped it.  That’s how I roll.

Home from school today due to bizarre sleet and snowfall overnight.  We were cautioned to expect it, but I never get my hopes up.  It’s a full moon, so not being at my particular job today is a bit of a bonus.  We’ll pay for it if we return tomorrow, but I’d be lying if I told you I wasn’t enjoying this cup of coffee wrapped up in my Baylor blanket on the couch, looking out at the snow!

I haven’t written much lately – lots of heavy life changes and losses trying to make their way down the other side of my horizon.  Divorce.  Sold the only home I ever owned.  Had to re-home the dog I’d had for several years with whom I hoped to do therapy work.  Had to sell the VW that I’d sworn for twelve years I was going to drive to 250,000 miles had rolled over.  Had to move from a comfortable 2,100 square foot home with a beautiful acre on a corner lot to a 1,100 square foot apartment with a patio.  Oh, and let’s not forget that almost half-a-year where my son and I met the federal government’s criteria for a homeless family.  That was awesome.  (Aside:  Thanks to all of you/us taxpayers who helped him to get his school lunch for free for a few months during that time – every little bit helped).  And now, there is a professional loss on the horizon.  I’ve weathered those before, but it doesn’t make them any more comfortable.  I’m being prepared for something.  Or made to understand something – not sure which characterization of all of this stuff is more accurate.  I’m making efforts to be open to whatever it is, though.  Because I certainly don’t want to miss it — that would mean having to endure something similar all over again.  And I know I would, but isn’t that the definition of insanity?  Hey, I think that last sentence contained an epiphany.  Has it all been to teach me what I can endure?  Perhaps I only thought I knew what hardship was before this these experiences.  (Please know that I am fully aware that there are countless individuals who endure much greater difficulty on a daily basis.  I do know that).

This week has been particularly difficult with regard to physical comfort — the evil monster living inside my cervical vertebrae has been having a spaz-festival in there.  And nothing I try to alleviate the pain is working.  I wake up with a stiff neck and shoulders, and if I lie there, immobile, it is tolerable.  Once I leave that mostly useless position in an effort to begin the day, so begins the excitement.  I try to stretch my neck/shoulder muscles because I know that’s important for their health, but as soon as I do that, the chain reaction of spasming begins.  And doesn’t end.  I’ve tried taking ibuprofen.  Ibuprofen + Naproxen combined.  Nada.

Sunday evening 8:13 pm

Nada.  Unless you misplace something you think might have found its way under your bed.  I got down on my knees to peek under the bed, and I found myself in “child’s pose,” a yoga pose.  And I stayed there.  I and began to do some deep breathing.  And it felt good.  And bad.  All at once.  So I remained.  Then I did some cat and cow stretches.  And a few downward dogs.  And a sun salutation or two.  I must say that throughout the day, my neck/shoulders moved a bit more than the day before.  My new normal is perpetual tension.  I pray about it.  I talk about it.  I breathe about it.  It hurts all the time.  My dad is in Grand Cayman awaiting double knee replacement surgery.  I want to join him.  Lots of free time in the summer.  Seriously.

It’s Day 2 of Spring Break.  Without my boy.  It’s weird.  I wish I had full confidence that he was in the best hands.  And that the body and brain that those hands belonged to was one that had sense enough not to discuss adult topics and frustrations with a kindergarten-aged child.  7 days to go.  7.  Days.  To.  Go.

Did I mention I really wish I was having surgery in Grand Cayman in the room next to my dad’s?  At least, there, they would probably give me Demerol.  

Not really.  Yes, really.

I had hoped to be able to go to Nashville this week for a short visit and some creative input.  I did not plan for it, of course, so I could not get any passes from my family to fly for free because now, they have made it somewhat procrastination-prohibitive.  Which, for national security reasons, I’ll try to understand.  But for focus-challenged, newly single Moms who have endured more than their fair share in the past 18 months, it’s a bit of a beating.  And a severe letdown.  Perhaps it’s meant to be.  Perhaps it just means that I should wait until the summer. And someone will have a need for a bilingual professional counselor who understands the music business to help their artist through a tough recording run.  #callmeiamqualified

I’m tired.  And I must sleep.  Pray for me to have the motivation and the executive function for the next few days to truly move into this apartment and get myself organized.

Just that.