I really love Triscuits but I almost never eat them. I usually end up eating the entire box in one go, which, if you know me, is kind of unusual. I tend to be a saver. I still have Halloween candy, for goodness’ sake (true story. it’s up there, in my cabinet, waiting for me to have an emergency which only Mounds and Reece’s Pieces can remedy). Today is a Triscuits day. I have a box here. I hope to still have some in the box by the end of the day, but I’m not promising anything.

You know how some weeks are hard and other weeks are easy? This is a hard one. A tragedy at my company plus just general busy-ness and burnout. A wee bit of loneliness creeping in (which I’m taking as a good sign, since I’m finally recovered enough to notice that I’m spending most of my time alone). Overly emotional for all kinds of reasons, both physical and situational. Tuesday I felt like I was going to cry, most of the day (there were actual legitimate reasons for that, but still). I feel just generally sort of raw this week. 

Last night I was driving home after a draining day at work. Traffic was terrible, worse than usual. I remembered that I had a small dark chocolate bar in my purse from last week (see? I told you. saver.) I figured this was as good a time as any for that magic chocolate cure. Except, when I opened it, it had crumbed in places and of course I dropped the little package and chocolate shavings fell out onto my work pants and my car seat, instantly melting (and staining). Thank you very much. 

So I got home and treated the stains and did the laundry and fed the cats and made some very simple dinner and watched Nick and Nora’s Infinite Playlist which was totally cheesy but kind of edgy and cute and then I went to bed. 

This morning I woke up and really just felt like hiding in bed all day. Some weeks/days are going to be like that. 

In which case, it’s time to pull out the tricks. Triscuits. Maybe some more chocolate this afternoon. Tonight I’m going to start watching Game of Thrones, which I’m looking forward to as I enjoyed the first book. I’ll try to go to bed early. The lilacs are starting to bloom; maybe I can cut some and bring them in. 

This weekend is supposed to be absolutely beautiful. Maybe I will ride my bike out in the country for a few hours. Maybe I will finish that painting I started, which has been on my mind lately. Maybe I’ll spend a day in bed. I’m sure I’ll feel better by the end of the weekend. The hormonal influences will have cleared up by then. I’ll get some rest. I’ll see a friend. I made chocolate chess pie last weekend and it was so amazingly good. Maybe I’ll make another dessert this weekend. Make some good food, maybe a veggie curry. Maybe pull out the old Moosewood Cookbook and see if there’s something fun in there. 

I did get We Need To Talk About Kevin, so I’ll start that, too. 

It’ll be okay. It’s just a Triscuit kind of week. 


some updates

  • I’m reading a book! And enjoying it! Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist. I think I’ll be able to finish this one. Light, a little edgy, not very long. Yep. That’s about what I need.
  • Continuing to feel better physically. Emotionally I’m doing pretty well but sometimes I have attacks of unhelpful emotions. Hello, unhelpful emotions! I am noting you, and attempting to let you slide on by.
  • Today was a long day and this week is feeling like a long week. I think I need a hot bath, my YA novel, and an early bedtime. I’ve been crabbier than usual this week (probably due to some very rational, makes-sense kinds of reasons) and yesterday had one of those “I hate everybody” days, which lasted most of the day. Today was better but I’m a little off this week.
  • I’ve been wanting to make some kind of horrible caramel-drenched coffeecake or something but can usually only handle a serving or two of anything like that. Thankfully my office is full of hungry people who will eat anything.

Favorite tips for combatting unhelpful emotions/bad days/bad weeks?

this is getting a little old

Well, here I am again. Home sick. This is… week six of this cold? Actually I think this is a new cold. I was really and truly getting better — Cough of Death merely a background irritation, very mild sniffles, energy coming back. But then I decided I was All Well and raked all the leaves in the back yard and built a leaf compost bin (from recycled plastic chicken wire). And by the end of the night, I had throat scratchies and sniffles starting again, and then by the time I got to work yesterday I was coughing more, and by 9 am it was obvious that I was Not Well. I went home around noon, stopping by the store to get vitamins and soup and such, and by the time I got back into the car to head home, I was begging the light to change because I could not STAND being in the car feeling so icky one second longer. I needed to be home in bed NOW.

Got home, put on sweats, made Theraflu, did the last little bit of work I needed to do, and fell asleep at around 3:45. I woke up again at around 8:30, fed the cats, ate an English muffin, drank some water and went back to bed, where I slept until 8 this morning. That’s about 15 hours of sleeping. I got up and was going to go to work, but after taking a shower and eating breakfast, felt really woozy and weak, and started feeling tired again, and figured that I could probably do what I needed to do, from home, and then take another nap.

So that’s what I’ve been doing. Doing some work, resting, drinking lots of fluids, staying warm. I’m going to attempt another nap here pretty soon. I’m just exhausted. I guess my body needs a lot more recovery than I thought it would — too much stress for far too long. I’ve been eating and resting and taking care of myself but I guess I’m still vulnerable and my defenses are still down. It might be time to pull out all the stops and go to the acupuncturist or something and try to build my immune system up. I might do that, actually.

I’ve started a new painting. My book-reading is still super-slow. I’m not even really reading magazines. I’m working my way through Henry James’ “Daisy Miller,” however, for my book-club tea next Saturday. We usually read a short story for our December meeting. I’m liking the story very much — it makes me want to read more James. You know, when I can read more than one or two pages at a time.

I’m back. Now what?

I just got home from a week away. I went to visit family and friends up in Oregon. It was a good trip — packed as usual, although I didn’t feel stressed. I did feel sick most of the time — I’m very tired of this cold. The Cough of Death is still hanging around and I’ve discovered the joys of Nyquil, since at around 7 pm I start to cough and can’t stop. When I got home last night, I coughed so hard that I nearly threw up. That’s always fun. Needless to say, I’m not feeling at my perky-and-energetic best.

So I’m home. And feeling at loose ends. I should unpack. Do laundry. Clean the fridge. Make some soup for the week. All that stuff. Instead, it’s 11 am and I’m still in my bathrobe, feeling slightly stunned and terribly out of it. I just want to go back to bed, actually.

I’m not sure what to do about the house and all that stuff. I’m supposed to talk to T’s sisters this week and figure out what we need to do. In the meantime, I feel like I’m in this weird limbo. I’m sick, which is skewing my thoughts. I’m still wrapped in cotton and feeling slightly bizarre about everything. I’m not sure really what I’m supposed to be doing. I’m vaguely concerned about the house stuff because I can’t afford the mortgage all by myself and T has decided she’s not paying her share anymore (no comments, please), but I’m okay this month and then next month I should hopefully know more and can work out a plan. T is not doing well, apparently, so I’m feeling bad and guilty and sad and concerned. It’s all weird and I’m in limbo.

I’m hardly doing any reading — I just can’t seem to get to it. My current book, Stephen King’s Danse Macabre, is very interesting, but it’s a big book and I’ve been distracted. I’d like for someone to come over and make me a big pot of something healthy that I can eat all week, but I guess it’s up to me to make that big pot of something healthy. I’m considering homemade chicken soup. Although frankly Safeway makes a darn fine chicken noodle soup and I’m really, really out of it. That’s what Safeway is for, right? We’ll see. I should go to the store today and maybe I will come up with an easy soup recipe. It would be good to not have to think about food this week.

It’s the holiday season (apparently) and here’s my plan: show up and eat. I am not doing anything else. I might do a little shopping if I can get my act together. That’s about it. It’s a relief, actually. I’ll just observe this year.

Although I did see a recipe for Mexican Wedding Cookies that piqued my interest. Maybe I’ll make those too. Once I stop coughing. IF I stop coughing. That seems up for debate at this point.

So that’s about it. I’m at loose ends. Still sick. Unsure what to do next. Unable to think very clearly. I think my first priority needs to be to get well. With that in mind, I’m off to look at soup recipes. Soup, laundry, then back in bed for the remainder of the day. Yep. That’s just how it’s going to be this week.



These past couple of weeks (has it only been two? maybe it’s three now…) have been pretty rough. I feel like I’ve been dumped into an icy cold ocean, my senses numbed, my brain barely able to function. I’m going through the motions and getting stuff done, but I feel like my entire being is wrapped in cotton. Self-protection, I suppose.

I’m thankful for a lot of things as I go through this strange time.

I’m thankful for my health. I got very sick with a bad cold immediately after the breakup and have been struggling ever since. I now have the Cough of Death — it’s just lingering and wracking my chest and hurting my lungs. But I know I will get well again.

I’m grateful for my job. I’ve worked there for 10 years and people know me and some people even care about me. They’ve been very supportive and flexible. “Stay home. Get well. Take time for you. You’ll get through this. We’ll figure it out when you feel better.” This is a gift. This is an amazing gift.

I’m really thankful for my friends. New friends, old friends, new-old friends. Everyone has come forward to say, “We love you. We’re here. Talk if you want. Don’t if you don’t. Come visit. Come see me. I’ll come see you. I’ll take you to lunch. I’ll help you with the house.” It’s amazing what good friends I have. I’m so deeply thankful and love everyone so much. Emails from bloggers that I only know online, sending me virtual hugs. People checking in via email every few days. It makes me glad that I work hard on my friendships when I can. I have friends that I’ve known since before I turned one year old. My whole life. That’s pretty terrific. I’m pretty lucky.

My kitties are being comforting as well. Chelsea is with T., being her comfort. I miss her terribly but I’m glad she’s with her. There’s another dog there, and kids, and I’m sure she’s having a good time. I miss her very much. But the kitties, Thomas and Finn, are being sweet and loving and fluffy and adorable as well. Thomas curls up tight with me in the early morning hours. Finn stays up late with me, demanding more brushing, more petting, more attention. They are keeping me focused on the here and now.

There are so many things I am not looking forward to. I’m not looking forward to selling the house. I love this house. It’s a bad financial move to sell it but I think it’s the only thing that makes sense for me at this time. But I am grateful that I am in it, using the kitchen, warm and safe for now. I’ll move on, I’ll find something else, later I will have another house. For now, for right now, I’m here and I am glad. I am remembering being an exchange student, and knowing I was only in this home, in this situation, for a number of months before moving on to the next home. Even if I didn’t love the people I was with, I grew attached to the houses. I loved them, I noticed the details, I enjoyed them while I was there. I’m trying to do this with my current house, knowing I will find something else I will love, next. Soon it will be time to detach and move into cold practicality. For now, I continue to love the house.

I’m grateful that I have things to look forward to. Trips. Family visits. Reunions. Large-scale events at work. Things to keep me busy, people to see, decisions to be made. Good ones, as well as the hard ones.

This transition stuff is not easy. I’m not really enjoying it. I’m losing a lot and will lose more. However, I’m gaining a lot too. I’m trying to be grateful for the things that are good in the days, for the things that show me that I am loved, that it’s going to be okay, that life always changes and sometimes it’s for the worse and sometimes it’s for the better, but nothing ever stays, and that’s okay. More good things will come in to fill the places left empty by loss. I’m good at living simply and frugally. I have lots of friends who want me back in their lives. If I need to I can scrap everything and start fresh. I’d rather not… but I could.

Soon I will move from this stage of shock and sludgy-brain to action. I will make decisions. I will fix up the house in order to show it at its best. I will move forward fearlessly (well, with a little fear, but mostly trying to be brave). I will embrace change.

Right now, though, I am still wrapped in cotton.