2021-07-09 All’s Well that Ends Well

I’ve got just a little time today, and at the very least wanted to document for posterity that the day yesterday turned out ok despite the conflicted emotions over cancelled plans and personal insecurities. I went to CB and had a nice time with my friends (after my obligatory weekly visit with my dad, who is also in CB). 

We met at Cellar 19 for a quick drink with my husband and her husband before her and I headed out to our other girlfriend’s house for charcuterie and more wine. It was a nice time with easy conversation and after the initial social anxious feeling subsided, I was fine. 

I don’t think people who don’t have social anxiety understand that even meeting friends—people you live and trust, can be stressful. 

Other than that, I made a good dent in my list yesterday and am continuing on the same path today. The first order of business, though, was to take my daughter to the allergist to be tested. 

She’s been just miserable lately and Allegra isn’t helping much. She’s been popping Benadryl like nobody’s business and that comes with some unsavory side effects. She wanted to get her options and also find out what the biggest causes are. 

They test for 56 different kinds of allergens by putting tiny doses in a grid pattern on your back with little needles. There’s minimal pain associated but a fair level of discomfort while you wait 20 minutes for them to “read” the results and then apply cream to alleviate the severe itch. 

She had at least a mild reaction to 95% of the allergens, and a more moderate reaction to about half, and a severe reaction to about 10 things, including several kinds of grasses, trees, mold, and of course cats and dogs. 

She loves her pets and can’t imagine life without them and is also planning to have both cats and dogs when she has her own place so she’s 100% all in with getting desensitization shots. It’s probably better she starts them now while she’s still under our insurance. It’s 3-5 years of shots and I had no idea that was a thing. 

As a kid I had seasonal allergies quite terribly and just suffered. I can remember every single year I was so excited about the first hard-freeze. Like serious happy dancing seeing frost and snow. It was trees, grass, dust, and who knows what else but it always subsided when winter arrived. 

I’ve pretty much grown out of all that but still take an allergy pill daily, apparently the most mild and reportedly least effective one on the market. After hearing that today, I’m considering quitting it altogether just to see if I can tell a difference. 

The doc said, “yeah, that one is like water… there’s nothing in it.” 😜

I think that’s it today. It’s definitely time to roll into the weekend. Calgon (and Jim)… take me away! 

With Peace and Love and Margaritas, 

~Miss SugarCookie

2021-07-02 Wait a Day and the Forecast Will Change

In case anyone is playing along, I did not let the snafu with my ex go. I sent a follow up text pointing out that he literally contradicted his own “advice” to our son by ignoring my text message. And of course I couldn’t help but throw in that I don’t agree with him and that we all want what we want. Who doesn’t? 

He replied promptly with a longer text that explained that my text didn’t ask a question and therefore required no reply. Oh there’s a loophole in the “social contract” that excuses his behavior. That makes sense. Then of course he could not help but include a statement about how he doesn’t understand why I “always take things so personally.” 

Hmmmmm. 🤔 Did I do that? After 18 years of marriage and 11 years divorced, how does one not take something personally, especially when it has to do with my son. 

I don’t think I said anything to indicate I had taken it personally actually. Was my follow up inquiry perceived as me taking things personally? Perhaps. But I care. Is that so wrong? 

Anyhow.. all that nonsense led to an actual phone conversation where he admitted he didn’t like to text. And he didn’t see any reason for it this time since we’d already just talked and agreed to a plan of action. 

He agreed. That’s the point. I didn’t agree to anything and specifically said so. What’s up with that? 

But for all our not seeing eye to eye, we do agree our son needs to be more active and more responsible. 

It ended up being an ok conversation. Not worth recounting with the time I have now, but I’m hopeful we can do better helping our son navigate his senior year. 

So that wraps that up. ☑️ ☑️ 

I wasn’t intending to hash through all of that, but if I’m anything at all, it’s a girl who digs having resolution and closure. 

Now, all of that is melting into a blur pretty quickly because there are hotter fish to fry. 

I’m simply livid over an issue with TicketMaster, irritated about something that happened at the hardware store, and most recently upset because my daughter borrowed my Air Pods without asking my permission AND then lost the case. Ugh! 😡 Where do I even begin??!!

*** 

That was how my day ended yesterday. I was so pissed off I couldn’t even have a conversation with myself before I went to sleep. That’s pretty bad man.. when you are so mad at yourself that you go to bed mad. But.. I think I really just needed sleep and to reset. 

Some days are like that. It feels as though nothing goes right and no matter what you do, it just keeps getting worse in your head. 

Jim did his best to talk me down but I wasn’t having that either. 

Waking up this morning I felt better. I still feel better. I guess that’s proof of what I’m talking about. I mean, nothing has changed. I still have ticket master and the missing Air pod case to deal with today, yet it’s a new day and I’m sure it will all turn out fine. 

A few days ago my friend T reached out to ask how I was doing and I told her I was good and she proceeded to tell me how she was depressed and feeling like life was out to get her. My advice was to be kind to herself and wait a few days and see if it subsides. 

The short story is that it did. It does that. I can give advice when asked but don’t always remember to heed that advice myself. Last night I certainly couldn’t. 

But now look. Today is a new day and every little thing’s gonna be all right. 

Cheers to a long weekend, 

~Miss SugarCookie

2021-06-28 Loneliness

Today’s poem of the day from the Paris Review is about loneliness. Today’s heartache is not knowing how to help my daughter navigate her loneliness. 

It’s a staunch truth that though we may be surrounded by people—home, work, school— we can still be suffering from loneliness. A longing to be with our person or persons. Someone who has dedicated their precious time and space to listening to us. To hearing us, holding us, and to being present in those difficult moments. 

But not just difficult moments. Laughter is so important too and what would life be without someone who makes you laugh or laughs with you, sometimes rolling on the floor with tears streaming down cheeks, uncontrollably? Without someone to smile with, life would be a train on a track rolling through a dark tunnel. No sun, no rain, just a cold dark void. 

At 1:30am my phone rings. I know before I look that it’s her. Call it a mother’s instinct, call it experience. It’s a call that hurts my heart and I’m ready when I answer. “Yes, I will come to your room.” 

I shuffle up the stairs and she’s sitting on the edge of her bed in tears. The first thing she says is that she needs a hug but I’m already by her side with my arm around her. She’s crying so hard she can’t breathe. At that moment I’m not sure what triggered it, but it doesn’t matter. I hold her tighter. 

We sit that way on the edge of her bed for a while, not saying anything. And then finally I break the silence by asking what has happened. She tells me and again, I’m not surprised. 

Her best friend is a shitty friend. She only has one and has suffered from a long string of terrible, undependable, aloof, or thoughtless friends. People that she’s put her trust in and they’ve broken her heart, disappointed and abandoned her. She’s been stranded alone so often she has developed a fear and a kind of neediness that feels to me to be atypical for a girl her age. 

The advice or wisdom some might offer is that it’s just a phase and that she’ll meet other friends and it will be wonderful. And though I might believe that too, I can’t let those words exit my mouth in front of her. I understand her. 

She’s an introvert and has a tough time meeting new people. She doesn’t feel comfortable speaking in a group and doesn’t seek out new friends. She’s trapped in a bubble. I understand her. 

That’s my message. I hold her and just try to reinforce that she’s not alone. That I’m here to listen, to talk, and that I will not abandon her. 

I am hopeful that when she goes back to college this fall her new dorm mates will be nice girls who she can connect with. I hope she meets people in her classes and that her world gets a little bigger. It’s lonely living in a bubble and it’s not natural. And I hope she’s open to it too and pushes herself to be outside her comfort zone a little bit. I want to promise her it will be worth it, but I can’t make that promise. 

We sat and talked for about an hour and then laid down and talked some more. She shared her thoughts and feelings and I listened. Then I shared some of my own life experiences so she knows she’s not alone. At about 3:15am I went back to my own bed because I knew she had to get up at 8 for work. 

This morning she came down the stairs, her normal grumpy morning mood tempered a little as she asked for some ibuprofen for her cramps. Yeah, the apple doesn’t fall far. 

I’m not terribly inspired by the poem about loneliness, but it feels very accurate. I spent many years feeling that. I’m empathetic but it’s so much worse because I’m her mom and I hate that she’s hurting. You want to protect your children, you know, shield them from the rough times but you can’t. We all have them. All we can really do is be there. 

We’re going to dinner tonight, just the two of us. Hopefully we can have a good conversation and I can get to a place with her that she will be open to the advice I have to offer. 

So starts a new week. Not exactly the start I was hoping for, but there it is. 

Be kind to each other,

~Miss SugarCookie

PS. Today’s daily poem from the Paris Review:

Though It Looks Like a Throat It Is Not
by Patricia Goedicke
Issue no. 65 (Spring 1976)

The shape of loneliness is a hole
By definition, to be filled.

At the outer edges of the hole
The lizard of jealousy sits
Licking his cold lips

For the shape of loneliness is a hole
With teeth on either side.

In the middle of everyone’s body
Like an empty house, like a coffin

Though it looks like a throat it is not‚
Though it looks like a cunt it is not,

Nothing glows in it but heartburn‚
Nothing lives in it but hot air‚
Gulps of it, rushing through the passages

Occasionally a sigh hurtles through it
Like the roar of a buffalo in a wind tunnel

So that the thin shell of self pity all around it
Shivers a little, and whines

So that it develops a red nose
Complaining to itself, and muttering
Gradually its conversations become more boring

So that everyone walks right by it without looking,
Nobody even bothers to fall in it
By accident,

Tears water it, profusely
Eventually sadness swamps everything,

Out there among the stars
And the light years between stars

Even the last tiny pinprick of fire at the bottom
Soggy as a landslide sloughs away
To the other side of space

For the shape of loneliness is a hole
Without any edges, finally

The entire universe whistles through it.

2021-06-27 Super Solo Sunday Status

Today I’m getting a half day all to myself. My man has gone “picking” with his bro at a farm in Seward Nebraska. I hadn’t heard of picking until he Introduced me to the concept and cited the show American pickers as an example.

Jim is big into finding “treasure” at antique stores and estate sales and more specifically that which has some local significance to Omaha and Nebraska (and Iowa). 

This year we went to an event called “Junk Stock” in search of old road signs to adorn our game room walls. He found some but also met a woman who lives out in Seward Nebraska whose husband is a scrap metal worker and brings home all kinds of discarded signs, old farm equipment, and other various machines. 

So today they are taking a trip out to their farm to see what they can find. Which leaves me with about a half day to do whatever I want. 

Sure, there are 4 teenagers here but they are either going to work or sleeping in because it’s Sunday. My first order of business?…

Treating myself to an extra long session on the treadmill. Hell, I might even go for a solo bike ride too. Get ALL the exercise I want and probably still have time enough to enjoy lounging on the couch with my cats. 

Speaking of cats… we have a 5th cat this week because we’re cat sitting for my friend M, who is on vacation this week. Our new fluffy friend is Stormy and he’s a very lovey, fluffy friend. His breed is Norwegian Forrest Cat and he is big with super long fur including the most gorgeous mane which makes him look like a lion, except his fur is dark grey with a little white on his paws.

Stormy loves people but he’s a very sensitive soul who doesn’t like change. He spent most of the day yesterday under the bed in his “all inclusive” bedroom. The door is closed and we’re not introducing the other cats so he doesn’t have too much “new” to deal with. He finally came out from under the bed at about 10pm (I think to use the litter box) and this morning he came out right away to greet me and get some love. 

He’s so pretty and all the kids think he’s great. You know we are a household of crazy cat people.. it’s not just me and Jim. All 4 kids love all the cats so much. I’m pretty sure we all like the cats more than we like each other.. ha! So Stormy has a great home away from home here. 🐱💕🏰

In other news, I’m excited to report I’ve got three new poems forthcoming with three different publications. Two were originally drafted during the advanced poetry studio class I took at UNO and the third is one of my newer “response” poems. 

When I first had the epiphany of writing a series of poems that were responses to other poems, I knew I would have to write a lot of poems in order to amass a collection that works as a unified body of work. The Universe knows there are a million poems out in the wild that are available both in print and online, the trick is finding ones that really speak to me enough to spark a response. 

Thus far I think I’ve only written six and my focus lately has been revising and submitting and I haven’t been inspired to write anything new. I’ve actually gone bananas submitting these six and the one being published in July is the first to get picked up. Coincidentally, the title of that poem is “Bananas”. 😜

Two of the others I believed to be really strong but have lost a little of that confidence with the myriad of rejections I’ve received. Two others are prose poems that I feel are not as good but keep working on them and sending out. The final one is also relatively new and frankly the only viable poem I’ve written so far this year (I think) and I’m in love with it and submitted it to like 25 places. If it gets picked up, my work will be cut out for me in the way of withdrawing all those subs. 

It would be nice to write a few new things that have some merit, but what can I say.. if I’m not feeling it.. I can’t force it. Maybe today will be the day for that too. 

On that note, I suppose it’s time to read my three daily poems and see what the Universe thinks I need to think about today with my copious amounts of free time. 💚💛🧡❤️

With Peace and Love and Peanut Butter Toast, 

~Miss SugarCookie

2021-06-26 After the Storm there is Calm

I’ve once again navigated the sea of emotions my monthly cycle often laps over me in waves. Gritting my teeth through the frustration of the daily grind, the longing for peace and stillness, and anger when little pricks press into my skin like poorly executed acupuncture. 

My mantra? “Wait a few days and see what washes back out to sea.” 

In these moments, my mental accounting is both a blessing and a curse. Waking in the wee hours with unnecessary thoughts on repeat or awake and lacking focus, yet still surprisingly productive, flush with new ideas, and tapping into spaces in my psyche that are otherwise unreachable. 

I’m on the other side of it now and able to look back and recognize the waves that were / are nothing more than ripples in the tide pool—concentric circles created by pebbles tossed in by life. I can see them clearly now for what they are and decide what attention should be required, which is often none. I let it go and move on. 

***

I now have three poems in my daily in-box and today I’m very unimpressed and uninspired. 

I’ve tried to write a couple of poems this week—force myself to begin and just don’t have it. I’ve resorted to exercises and prompts and tricks and somehow those poems never hold the same energy for me. 

I spent a little time yesterday getting caught up with Submittable. My active submission count had fallen below my goal threshold of 30 and I wanted to hike that back up. I might have resolved to submit more to a few prestigious journals in July, but for now, my selections are mostly driven by cost and whatever journals show up at the top of the “discovery” list. 

I’m also spending time on the production of The Good Life Review’s Summer 2021 issue. It’s a fair bit of work but it’s coming together nicely. There are a few prerequisites I’m waiting on but hopeful we can get it together by mid-July. 

What else? It’s Saturday and we’re planning a family gathering, pending weather. If it looks like rain we are going to scrub it but waking up this morning the weather this afternoon looks pretty clear. I suppose that means I should get going to attend to the last minute outside things. The pool isn’t going to clean itself. 😜

Perhaps I’ll feel more like writing about the ins and outs of life again soon. I’ve kind of lost it lately. Maybe today’s party will provide sparks of thought worthy of writing about. 

Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps, 

~Miss SugarCookie

2021-06-07 Reactive 🩸

“Reactive” is the result of the COVID antibody test performed by the Red Cross from my latest blood donation. It’s now standard for them to do the test on every donation.

The explanation for my reactive result is that I have antibodies consistent with a person who has had the COVID vaccine, but did not have those that indicate I was exposed to the virus.

It’s true. I hid from the world at large for over 12 months, emerging from my castle a few times a week to mask up and get supplies. According to my latest antibody test I was successful dodging that Coronavirus bullet. 

I never had a nasal swab or a reason to go get tested during the thick of it all, when the frenzy was a pool of hungry fish, bubbling up for any morsel. Starved of normalcy, deprived of human interaction. Such a strange time. 

Now it appears we are on the other side of it. The population is under control just enough. The masks have been discarded. The shelves at the store full once again with toilet paper, disinfectant, and little bottles of hand sanitizer. It’s cheap now. They can’t give it away.

It’s just going to sit there for eternity like those end caps with masks of every color—blue, black, pink, and grey stitched to suit any outfit or occasion. They will hang there in their little plastic packages until the next time the end-times knocks on the door of humanity.

I can’t recall who I was talking to about 2020 lately, about the riots and forest fires—a fresh hell delivered to our doorsteps every month. For some quite literally but for me just figuratively, via my morning news report. How many times did I have to tell Alexa to stop? How many times did I feel so desperate in my hiding? 

Yet here I am still, living to fight another day. And isn’t that just amazing. Isn’t it just the best gift to step outside and feel the sunshine on my unkissed skin. 

I think I might spend some time today, in the shade, reading a book. Keep it simple. 

The hiding was not so bad—is not so bad as long as the world at large doesn’t interfere too much.

I’m a lucky girl. Or blessed if you believe in that sort of thing.

Peace and love and peanut butter toast, 

~Miss SugarCookie

2021-06-03 Coming to a Few Conclusions

I’ve tried a few times so far this week to write something. It’s just not there, you know, and I’m not inclined to fight it. 

The rest of our KC road trip came and went and I began to write about that, but got distracted by life and stuff needing attention. 

I’ve wanted to write about my former father-in-law and how I felt a dull ache in my heart for days and angst over whether or not I should go to the funeral. I gave blood last week and began crying on the “table” during the donation and had to wave off the concerned Red Cross staff, letting them know it was something else entirely and I was fine.

The funeral is today and I’m going. I asked a few people if I should or not and wasn’t satisfied with any of the answers I received. Not because they didn’t make logical sense or because they were contrary to what I actually wanted, but because I was looking for someone else to tell me what to do and I suppose in the end I didn’t really want advice. I wanted to want advice, if that makes sense, but in my heart I already knew what I wanted, which was to go and grieve for myself and support my children. Isn’t that what funerals are for? 

Like much of life, it can be whatever you want, you just need to figure out what you want. The lucky among us figure that out with enough time left to actually act on our wants and desires. 

My mom is going to the funeral with me. I asked her yesterday and at the risk of sounding shady and cold, she owes me. A person should not have to go to a funeral alone. In my life I’ve often felt that it was better to face grief in a solitary fashion—work out me feelings for myself, but I’ve learned over the years that this is backward thinking. I’m not too proud to admit I was wrong. People need people. 

I won’t get to sit with my children, of course, as they will be with their dad up front. I just hope they don’t make my son cut his hair for this. I have a feeling his dad might. 

Sometimes waiting for a funeral is like holding your breath and I’m really looking forward to it being over so I can exhale. 

I’d like to write more about all of this, but the words are just not there. Such is life. 

Peace and love, 

~Miss SugarCookie

2021-05-25 What’s In the News… 🗞

Happy mask mandate expiry day! It’s been a while since I’ve walked/written/had time to think about the world at large. Life is that way sometimes I guess. 

The last time I checked in I was pouring over my stabilizing good mood and trying to decide what, exactly, it was that made the tide turn in my favor. I’m happy to report that my happy has continued to be consistent and I’m still waking up most days looking forward to the day. 

I’ve continued to not over-commit myself and have not volunteered to do anymore talks or workshops. I’m minimizing meet-ups and really digging in for quality time with those I have had. 

Last Friday I had a 4 hour happy hour session with my friend M and that was fabulous. This week I have two or three meetups mixed in with my deep dive into reading for the GLR contest (which I’m very behind on for nonfiction). It’s my priority this week and I have a LOT to read! 

I’ve finished a first pass at poetry and also scripts and am ready to discuss with other editors. The only category I’m not reading is fiction. It’s just too much. 

Anyhow, that’s what’s on the agenda today after this much needed walk. I’ve tried to get back into the cardio thing but finding it hard to get motivated. I think part of that is that something in me is still recovering from that stomach virus I had last week. Was that just last week? It’s already blurry (my memory). 

In any case, my stomach is still off and my energy is low. But.. the low energy thing has been chronic so I can hardly blame that virus. It may still be a contributing factor though. 

Good gravy!… I haven’t written for days and THIS is still all I have?!?! I guess that’s a good thing as no news is good news. Right?!!

What about the world at large??

Locally, our mask mandate expired today and I’m very curious how businesses around town will react. Since the mask thing became so political, it will be a statement when the business owners either continue to require masks or not. I think most locally owned places will quickly and happily remove the signs from their doors whereas many major chains such as wal-mart or Costco might continue to expect customers to comply with the company policy. 

Not that it will stop ass-hats from refusing to comply. Those folks will do what they want no matter what someone else says. I saw a lady rudely refuse to put on a mask going into a Walmart grocery last week. I wanted to follow her into the store and give her a piece of my mind. Why is it some people think the rules don’t apply to them?! Cwazy! 

Nationally? I heard a statistic that the last few months has been the worst in history for “personal” shootings and gun violence. Has this become so common place that each incident isn’t even enough to make the daily news? Or am I so desensitized that I don’t hear it? And how much do “we” have to endure before new laws can be passed. Then again, my position in this has not changed. 

No law can undo what’s already been done. And I’m not talking about the past shootings, I’m talking about the sale of semi-automatic weapons or lack of background checks attached to gun sales. No.. if you’re a criminal or have mental health problems, homicidal tendencies, or anger issues, you probably already have the guns you want. 

Rights to bear arms means you can have a gun, it shouldn’t mean you can have one that can kill dozens of people with one pass through a crowded room. That’s my stance and that has not changed. 

Today is the anniversary of George Floyd’s death and while the fire of that still burns in the heart of many Americans, America as a whole is now doing what it does best… sweep history into the archives without doing anything to change things for the better. What will happen to the BLM movement? It will smolder until another event sparks the flame anew. And round and round we go, decade after decade. 

The global news feels very much the same (as in, hot topics coming and going as fast as people change their underwear). Not a squeak about Gaza or the Middle East; not an ounce about the Coronavirus, except that America is urging folks not to travel to Japan for the Olympics as Japan is way behind on vaccinations. The summer olympics? Is that still happening? Who the hell would want to go to that anyway on the heels of a global pandemic?! Good gravy!!

OK folks, that is probably enough for today. I’ve got to get on the productivity train. 

Peace, Love, and BBQ Lays,

~Miss SugarCookie

2021-05-17 Back in the Game… ✍🏻💕✍🏻✍🏻

Last year I went on a submission spree, submitting my poetry to all levels and types of publishers, from the very brand new organizations to the big-name long shots—print, online, anthology, full manuscript, chapbook, daily, monthly, quarterly journals and reviews. I think I maxed out at 80-something open submissions sometime in November or December. Oh, and I spent some coin too as most of those journals operate much like my Good Life Review in that they rely on the submission fee to cover the cost of operations. 

In January I started fresh but vowed to only submit to free places that month. Then I sort of lost my motivation and promised myself I would wait out for what was currently open to be declined (or accepted).. until my open number dwindled to around 50. I told myself I would pick it back up then and maintain that 50, as a goal. 

50 came and went, I don’t know when, and then 40, then 35, and 30. About that time I decided I would try to maintain 25, when I got there. With the last decline  I received I think the open count was down around 22 so I was clearly lying to myself. Among all the declines have been a few acceptances, of which only one is set for future release—summer 2021. 

Of course I still have that chapbook that’s going to be published later this year. Sort of anti-climactic to have that come through and literally wait almost a whole year to announce anything about it. Though I’ve thought about making it public anyhow, just to boost my writer spirits. 

Anyhow.. not sure what my lack of motivation was from. I tried to look early last week for potential places to submit but quickly lost interest. Maybe it has something to do with my lack of new material. 

I read my standard two poems a day and that’s been uninspiring. I’m reading all the poetry submissions for my lit mag’s contest and am also uninspired by most of it. I think I’m just not in the mood to write anything new. I ask myself if that is ok or if it’s a problem to be solved.

Hmmm. 🤔 

***

Recently I wrote about how my mood has taken a turn for the better lately and that I think the lack of obligations has something to do with that. I wondered briefly if setting an expectation that I continue to press hard on the publishing thing wasn’t a contributing factor in the grand equation of expectations and a feeling of self-worth, or purpose. 

Last Friday I dipped my toe into submittable and confirmed what I thought to be true. Sure enough I was sitting at 22 open. I resolved myself to bringing that number up to 25. But oh my, am I sick of looking at the same poems (especially the ones that have been rejected over and over). So I opened some fresher material and got to work on revising and polishing them. 

And wouldn’t you know what happened next is like magic. I got lost in it. I was putting these newer poems through a series of tests—syntax, form, vocabulary choices, passive voice, cutting unnecessary words, lines, rewriting others conpletely, etc., etc. It felt glorious. With each pass, I felt better and better about each poem and, in general, I felt better too. 

I continued to edit and felt good enough about a couple to submit. Then I thoughtfully toggled between research, more revision, and submitting again until my count was up to 25. That was only 3 new submissions, but it was 3 more than I had had that morning and hitting my goal was satisfying. 

Wouldn’t you know, I woke up Saturday to a new decline in my email and I shrugged an got out my laptop to work some more. This time, exceeding my goal. Now I’m up to about 27. Maybe my new goal should be 30? 

This is how it starts. 😉

I suppose the point of all of this is that I had to force myself to do something I enjoy, but once I did, it was extremely satisfying and now I’m back in the game. 

Now… maybe THAT has more to do with my improved mood than anything. It could be that the spell of depression and unmotivated mood I had been going through had to do with BOTH external obligations and the lack of nourishment of my soul. The part of me that needs poetry and that thrill of producing art that I feel is beautiful and full of love. 

Love IS the right word. 

Today is Monday and I’m steadily making my way through my house chores—dishes, cleaning the kitchen (after a weekend with a houseful of teenagers), litter boxes, grocery shopping, and laundry. So far so good. And I’m not even bent about it. I feel great about it actually. What a flip!! 

My mom is coming over this afternoon and bringing her dog. We are actively trying to find a new home for her as my mom can’t handle her with her current health issues. It’s just not feasible. I’m hoping today’s meet-up will yield a positive outcome. It would be one less thing she has to worry about (and by proxy, one less thing I have to worry about). 

I think that’s it for today. 

Cheers to Being Back in the Game, 

~Miss SugarCookie

2021-05-16 Another Week in the Rearview

It’s been a strange week. 

A few days ago I had a call with my friend HL who lives in Denver, who I haven’t seen since my wedding in February of 2020.. You know, that last month of what I’m now calling “The Great Before.”

Before COVID spread the world and took over the airwaves (literally) and our lives. It’s safe to say that here in America we’re on the downhill slide back to normal, but things will never be the same as before. I’m confident of that. 

Anyhow, catching up with HL and being fresh off a 24 hour bout with the norovirus, my mind was still circling the fact that I’ve known my husband for 3 years and had never seen him sick.

The man had never taken a day off of work since I’ve known him and I had never seen him laid up on the couch with a thermometer hanging out his mouth. Consequently, I’d never had to take care of him or experience how his mood is when he is sick.

I told HL I didn’t know what I was thinking, marrying a man who I had never seen sick. It coulda been bad. He coulda been a big baby or pain in the ass. Thankfully (and predictably) he wasn’t anything like that.

He basically rested for a day, took work off (which is what people should do when they are sick and contagious) and didn’t really need anything from me. Plus I got a break from cooking breakfast for a few days. I’m ok with that. 

We actually tried to limit our own personal contact in an attempt to spare me the same fate, as noro is highly contagious. It didn’t work and 2 days later it hit me too. It was the toughest 24 hours I’ve had in a long while. Since June 2020 I would say. And even after I was over the worst of it—the big purge, I was still exhausted for several more days.

I was feeling much better as of yesterday, but still took the day easy and didn’t push for extra cardio or to get my daily allotment of steps. Rest and recovery was my aim.

On the phone HL and I conspired to plan several get togethers this year. We both agreed that we were so ready to travel on a regular basis again. He left for a getaway in Mexico yesterday. I must admit I’m jealous. I know I’m pretty fresh off my own first vacation away from home so I can’t whine too much, but MEXICO!! I’m so ready to go somewhere like that again. 

I say it’s been a strange week because despite all the sickness, it’s been rather a good week. My mood has been good, for the most part, and I’m feeling like I’m getting to a good place. Not that I haven’t been at a good place, but letting go of committing myself to public speaking appearances and other similar engagements where I’m required to prepare or say something has definitely helped nudge me further toward enjoying each day. 

There’s just something about the black cloud of public speaking looming in the distance, no matter how far, that affects my mood. 

At the moment there is no event I’m committed to or obligation I’m thinking about and dreading and I find myself waking up each day, looking forward to what’s on the agenda. Yes, even the dishes and grocery shopping and laundry. Fascinating right?! 

I will say all that doesn’t change how I feel about picking up after teenagers or cleaning toilets.  I Don’t think anything will ever change the way I feel about that. But imma call this week for maid service, at least for the bathrooms, and that’s just another step in the right direction. 

That’s blog worthy news right? I mean, doesn’t everyone want to read about the saga that is the cleaning of the toilets? 😜

I suppose that’s as good a place to wrap as any. It’s Sunday again, and it’s going to be a rainy one. I did a lot of work in the garden yesterday so I could take advantage of the rain we are going to get this week. 

The rain today just means my attention will be on all the indoor tasks, the first of which is catching up on reading poetry submissions for the GLR contest. I hope there are some gems in the pile… to make the reading more enjoyable. 

Ok now I’m ready to wrap. 

With Peace and Love and Peaches, 🍑 

~Miss SugarCookie