Well, about this time a year ago I was waiting to hear about closing on my home, Sans Souci (with minor soucis, as it were). I closed on January 20th 2015 and the 21st of January I instantly had buyer's remorse as I went to the now vacant house with the contractor to place the mezzuzahs on the door posts, back and front, and trip, for the first time, up the small step that leads to the living room. I saw the kitchen, bare of cupboards and holes in the walls and thought "what the hell have I gotten myself into?" Which led to lots of extra therapy sessions with Hyphen and other therapeutic moments. I became a mess of emotions; leaving behind memories and lost friends, embarking on a new life in my 60th year. Also, leaving behind a Hyphenated Hyphen who in March was severely injured on her way back to Okemos, leaving me bereft and therapistless to deal with the coming weeks. And for her to deal with massive injuries I thought she'd would never come back from. More on this later.
The week of March 23rd I was summarily packed up at the old residence, a process that took two full days. The 25th of March the movers came and the furniture came and the cable company came and the house was about 99% finished. The real moment came when Sophie's son came and helped me trap three terrified cats for the move five blocks away. The first cat was easy, the big guy, easily trapped and crated. The next, a little more difficult. The last, my oldest and kinda the favorite of the babies, proved to be reluctant to move. Poor Bubba! He was scratched from arm to shining arm. But once moved and released the assembled cats hid, save for Simcha who chose to explore and go with the moment. I eventually found Yankel in basement on a shelf and thought I had lost my guy Gonif as he was not to be found. Found out later he had found a safe place in a nook under the new platform bed.
As I was preparing to return to work some of the plumbing went south, but was easily fixed. Two days later the furnace went. $3,000 later the last of the major repairs on the house were done. By the 13th of April I was ready for my Passover delayed but annual Opening Day of Baseball Season party, replete with hot dogs and buns from Chicago to be cooked on a new grill.
Things were settled. I was getting settled. The bills were rolling in. Taxes, new appliances, furniture, bedding, everything nearly new, a clean slate. More on this later.
The weather turned warm enough and I started working on my yard, which the previous owner had left a mess. I was able to get the leaves cleaned out and the stumps of ugly bushes removed. It was about this time that I noticed I was losing weight, in a good way, by having something positive to do after work and not mindless snacking and couch potato-ing I had been doing in the condo. It was then that DZ challenged me, of sorts, to get a FitBit and I began walking the rambling sidewalks that were my new neighborhood. Five miles a day. I went from 160 to 133 (my current weight) in less than a six months period of time. Not too shabby for not really trying to lose weight. I had a patio installed in the back yard, with thoughts of having Sophie's 70th birthday party and fire pit out there but my bones gave way and I did break a leg. Ten weeks in a boot. I was miserable. The yard went to hell, except for the back yard which I had the good sense to hire a landscaper. But in the height of summer, my favorite time of year, I was home bound a great deal. Missed a lot of work.
And that was the summer of miscontents. I had a temporary therapist, the Bird, who lasted as long as her song did. Then was the duel betwixt Calvin's Mom and Hyphen 2.0, which lead me to Hyphen 2.0. I felt engaged and was working on complex issues, somewhat relieved that I had found a safe haven. Oh, my friends, I felt as though I had found the best therapist of all time. Only to find out in, was it October? that she was planning to retire this coming spring. I was, once again, bereft. Thank goodness for the reflexologist and our sessions of talk therapy. That lead me to LPA (for lack of a better acronym for the newest therapist...our American Girl). To wit, and to woo, I am set for the time. I also fired a number of doctors whom I assessed were being a trifle passive/aggressive in their treatment of me.
So here is is the last day of work for the year. I reflect. The last day of work for Sophie and Petunia's mom. My Spartans are in Texas set to take on the evil empire of Alabama and their lousy crimson tide. What the hell is that any way? And a floppy nozzled elephant for a mascot. Give me Sparty any day. Friends are coming over tomorrow and Friday. We are having a burger luncheon in honor of our retirees...more parties to come. Go Green (and for some reason the cats cannot be trained to say "Go White" on command...go figure)
Well, with some fits and starts that was the year in reverse. A fine year. A hectic year, a year of psychic losses. We finally gave Jerry his rest.
I was sitting in the library's mail room this morning, welling up with tears, not at the thought of Sophie's last day at work, but of all my Hyphens. Seems that Hyphen has recuperated enough to winter in Florida with her husband and is deciding whether to return to practice in the spring, perhaps. I know not the mind. I know I won't go with her. With Hyphen 2.0 I felt a genuine connection, was working and having great sessions, many of which ran over as we dissected the workings of my mind. Thus the tears this morning. Those two Hyphens will never be recovered or revisited. The two women I spent time with in deep and dark discussions are lost. When I left my first therapist in 2005 I left knowing that I had made great strides and we had no more work to do. With the Hyphens things seem so much more unsettled. I have written Hyphen a greeting and I am sorely tempted to write a note to Hyphen 2.0. That's probably not going to happen. I wish them well, but for Hyphen 2.0 I wish she had told me before I connected with her of her imminent plans to retire and that we had not made that connection. Am I the better for having seen her? Not right now. Too much work to do to get to my happy place. And some of the obstacles to that place were put in the road by 2.0. Maybe I should have had the exit session with her for some closure. Too late now and I am not going to put a cherry on the top by wishing her well and saying that is was too bad we had such a good connection.
For the new year I will need to sit down with DZ and work on getting my finances in order and rein in the spending on the house. The Winter Solstice has come and gone and days are incrementally getting longer. Today it is safe to walk home, yesterday, not so much with the snow and ice. The spring is coming, I know this in my bones. I will see Sophie tomorrow, I know this for a fact. I will call her tonight, I know this for a fact. How the American Girl (LPA) will work out remains to be seen. Life is full of uncertainties. And I am one of them.
Happy New Year...Go Green!!! (damn cats...)
Wednesday, December 30, 2015
Tuesday, December 29, 2015
Homage au Sophie (Verklempt rating 3.9 stars)
I know I haven't written much of late. Blame it on the holidays and the resultant moodiness brought on by the season. Yes, once Hanukkah is over and the season regresses into the more popularly celebrated holidays, moods strike me. Some trivial, like a mess of cats exploding in a fountain of puke, some major, like my failure to set boundaries with Stan on the issue of getting together and playing on a regular basis. I can deal with it for an hour, but, my goodness, he stays and stays. Today he is coming with his wife so maybe they won't stay as long. I like Stan's wife, Toba, quite the archetypal Jewish mother type. Which brings us to Sophie Horowitz. The artificial coming of the Jewish/Methodist mother. As her last days at work approach I am hard pressed not to say something very sentimental about her retirement, her last day being the 30th. Oh, sure, there will still be the evening phone calls, the shows at Wharton, the symphonies, dinners out, as well as just because visits. Just Because. Thirty some odd years ago, more like thirty one at the end of the day, when I was already wrapped in the bosom of the MSU family, Sophie came to work at the library and through some quirk of fate we became friends. Maybe brought together by the Soul Sucker, more more likely introduced by a third party of more friendly times. And a few months after she started we became fast friends. Breaking together to get a smoke (oh yes, dear friends, in those days we both smoked...both now ex-smokers of a long time, me thirty years come February 17th 2016). She was a savior for me, although at first she was closer to the Soul Sucker than me, but in my descent into madness in 1989 or so, she and her husband were my salvation. I was put on medication that made me so dopey in the morning that they would pick me up at home, afraid for me to walk in, and get me a strong cup of coffee and a sticky bun. And in those rough days I would call her every night and we would talk for an hour or two until my evening medications kicked in enough for me to fall asleep. At some point we were both very close to the Soul Sucker, but in time we grew closer to each other and farther way from her. Maybe it was a similar sense of humor and intellect, an empathy towards each other, a sense that perhaps we were sisters of another mother. When Sophie's husband passed away the Soul Sucker tried to really co-opt Sophie's life and became her caretaker and watcher. To the point that she would monitor Sophie's time off, time off without pay, Sophie's family, her family, her family...
Anyway, when the break with the Soul Sucker came, now two years ago, during that horrid ice storm of 2013, Sophie and I became all that closer. And with the retirement of the Soul Sucker, our bond, that is Sophie and me, became all the stronger, in part, as we hashed over how the Soul Sucker tried to control our lives: me with my therapy and medicated trips to see the psychiatrist to get more meds (duh!) and Sophie with her worthless family, her time off, her inability to retire. Ah, yes, that is what the Soul Sucker was concerned with...that Sophie be able to retire. In the end the Soul Sucker was merely projecting her own fears and concerns onto Sophie.
With the Soul Sucker out of our collective lives we morphed into a relationship that has transcended work. We are, in spite of playful sisterly bickering, as close as two friends can be. And with her retirement there will be a void in my work life, but not so much my away from work time. Oh, sure, I will miss the breaks, the lunches and the rides on a daily basis, but I have a fill in: a pseudo Sophie. And yes, we shall call her Sonia...Sonia Moskowitz. Toba is already taken.
So we shall have a last playful lunch with friends and co-workers tomorrow and, weather permitting, I will walk home as I don't want to say goodbye to my friend. Better to say hello again later that night. I recall when a former co-worker, who has since passed away (and now I live across the street from her old house), left. On her last day I wept like a child. I don't want to spend tomorrow weepy (thank God for Valium). Tomorrow shall not be a weepy Wednesday, but rather a new beginning to a relationship that has miles to go. Yes, it will be different without her here. I will have to program her home phone into my office phone, a number on speed dial for emergency purposes, like my other retiree buddies...
And I would be remiss if I didn't mention that tomorrow's lunch will also honor another retiree of the same day, Petunia's Mom...It shall be a day of carry out hamburgers from the best burger joint in town and Petunia, along with her Mom, will take us there and back. Back to a last lunch with two friends. But also the first of many lunches, dinners and breakfasts with friends. Soon, in say three to five years, I shall joint the ranks of the retired. Right now I can't imagine that chapter of life, that is my work life, being over and perhaps a final chapter to begin.
To my dear friends. I wish you contentment, peace, happiness and good health. May we always be friends and dear to each other. And a special nod to Sophie who has always been there for me and will continue to do so. Or else!
Anyway, when the break with the Soul Sucker came, now two years ago, during that horrid ice storm of 2013, Sophie and I became all that closer. And with the retirement of the Soul Sucker, our bond, that is Sophie and me, became all the stronger, in part, as we hashed over how the Soul Sucker tried to control our lives: me with my therapy and medicated trips to see the psychiatrist to get more meds (duh!) and Sophie with her worthless family, her time off, her inability to retire. Ah, yes, that is what the Soul Sucker was concerned with...that Sophie be able to retire. In the end the Soul Sucker was merely projecting her own fears and concerns onto Sophie.
With the Soul Sucker out of our collective lives we morphed into a relationship that has transcended work. We are, in spite of playful sisterly bickering, as close as two friends can be. And with her retirement there will be a void in my work life, but not so much my away from work time. Oh, sure, I will miss the breaks, the lunches and the rides on a daily basis, but I have a fill in: a pseudo Sophie. And yes, we shall call her Sonia...Sonia Moskowitz. Toba is already taken.
So we shall have a last playful lunch with friends and co-workers tomorrow and, weather permitting, I will walk home as I don't want to say goodbye to my friend. Better to say hello again later that night. I recall when a former co-worker, who has since passed away (and now I live across the street from her old house), left. On her last day I wept like a child. I don't want to spend tomorrow weepy (thank God for Valium). Tomorrow shall not be a weepy Wednesday, but rather a new beginning to a relationship that has miles to go. Yes, it will be different without her here. I will have to program her home phone into my office phone, a number on speed dial for emergency purposes, like my other retiree buddies...
And I would be remiss if I didn't mention that tomorrow's lunch will also honor another retiree of the same day, Petunia's Mom...It shall be a day of carry out hamburgers from the best burger joint in town and Petunia, along with her Mom, will take us there and back. Back to a last lunch with two friends. But also the first of many lunches, dinners and breakfasts with friends. Soon, in say three to five years, I shall joint the ranks of the retired. Right now I can't imagine that chapter of life, that is my work life, being over and perhaps a final chapter to begin.
To my dear friends. I wish you contentment, peace, happiness and good health. May we always be friends and dear to each other. And a special nod to Sophie who has always been there for me and will continue to do so. Or else!
Monday, December 21, 2015
It's about to get better
The winter solstice is upon us. Tomorrow marks the longest day of the year and from there it is all uphill to longer days and shorter nights. Alright, so you won't really notice this so much for a month but, hey, it is ongoing.
I think about my grandmother Dorothy this time of year, along with the solstice. Hard not to. But it has been thirty years since her death and her youngest sister just died two years ago at the ripe old age of 105. I lit Yahrzeit candles for them and put them in a hurricane style lamp and put them on the from porch lest the cats set the house on fire. Actually when I lit the candle I lit it for all my great aunts and uncles as I doubt anyone else in the family is doing it. I sent a check to the synagogue, like a good doo-bee. All the while waiting for the solstice and the start of the descent into spring. Of course with the weather being what it is lately I doubt that the snow shoes will get much of a workout this year. Raining like all get out today. Dark and dreary. Here it is after 9:00 a.m. and really it is still quite dark. But, hark, the solstice is coming. Let us be light and airy.
Thirty years...OMG...
I think about my grandmother Dorothy this time of year, along with the solstice. Hard not to. But it has been thirty years since her death and her youngest sister just died two years ago at the ripe old age of 105. I lit Yahrzeit candles for them and put them in a hurricane style lamp and put them on the from porch lest the cats set the house on fire. Actually when I lit the candle I lit it for all my great aunts and uncles as I doubt anyone else in the family is doing it. I sent a check to the synagogue, like a good doo-bee. All the while waiting for the solstice and the start of the descent into spring. Of course with the weather being what it is lately I doubt that the snow shoes will get much of a workout this year. Raining like all get out today. Dark and dreary. Here it is after 9:00 a.m. and really it is still quite dark. But, hark, the solstice is coming. Let us be light and airy.
Thirty years...OMG...
Sunday, December 20, 2015
The Un-Hyphen
The new therapist seems to be working well. I had a few bad days last week and was able to get in to see her and work out some issues. Sophie thinks I have SAD but I really know I just have the D of it. Not the best time of year for me. Last night was the thirtieth anniversary or Yahrzeit, of my beloved grandmother Dorothy's death. She was riding in a funeral procession in a car driven by her sister Betty and two of her sisters with her when the car was hit by a Monthomery Ward's truck, killing her instantly and severely injuring her sister Betty. The other two sisters wer shaken up but otherwise good. I received that wonderful phone call at work on a Friday afternoon. By 4:00 I was home in Detroit and had the "pleasure" of telling my mother that her mother was dead. She seemed nonplussed until she had half a fifth of bourbon and thought she should show some sign of grief. I was, how do you say, numb for about ten years. I was unable to grieve or process what had happened. Years later when I was in a mental hospital the grief finally overwhelmed me. So I lost my grandmother, ten years and my partner at the time,
Last night, with the proceeds of my change jar and my Tzedakah box, I made a donation in her name to my synagogue and took friends to dinner and then we went to a great jazz concert where I managed to fall asleep any number of times. I had lit the memorial candle for my grandmother and pondered all that has happened than brought me to this place thirtty years later.
Still pondering today I took a few walks and went to look at Christmas lights in the neighborhood, including a strange nativity display with C3PO and R2D2, among other oddities. The house, if interested, is located on Touraine, two houses north of Saginaw in East Lanaing. About three blocks east of Coolidge, I hear tell that it plays the Imperial March as a passerby passes by. How that affected my mood I don't know.
I am a bit moody right now, in spite of Star War's nativity. I was concerned that my porch lights might be misconstrued as a sign of me celebrating Christmas so I changed the lights from white to Green, an homage to my Spartans.
Things continue to be emotionally tough on me but I shall persevere. Last week in a mood I came home to a houseful of cat puke and I lost it. All I could do was think of how I wanted to hurt myself. Alright, I know that isn't a rational response, so I called the Un-Hyphen and also JB and talked myself out of that. I cleaned up the puke, called Stan and said I couldn't play music with him that night and took a few Valium and a rest. So I saw the Un-Hyphen twice last week. I see her again Tuesday.
And that is what has been going on. Depressed and grieving I moved through my week. Hopefully this week, well, who knows.
Last night, with the proceeds of my change jar and my Tzedakah box, I made a donation in her name to my synagogue and took friends to dinner and then we went to a great jazz concert where I managed to fall asleep any number of times. I had lit the memorial candle for my grandmother and pondered all that has happened than brought me to this place thirtty years later.
Still pondering today I took a few walks and went to look at Christmas lights in the neighborhood, including a strange nativity display with C3PO and R2D2, among other oddities. The house, if interested, is located on Touraine, two houses north of Saginaw in East Lanaing. About three blocks east of Coolidge, I hear tell that it plays the Imperial March as a passerby passes by. How that affected my mood I don't know.
I am a bit moody right now, in spite of Star War's nativity. I was concerned that my porch lights might be misconstrued as a sign of me celebrating Christmas so I changed the lights from white to Green, an homage to my Spartans.
Things continue to be emotionally tough on me but I shall persevere. Last week in a mood I came home to a houseful of cat puke and I lost it. All I could do was think of how I wanted to hurt myself. Alright, I know that isn't a rational response, so I called the Un-Hyphen and also JB and talked myself out of that. I cleaned up the puke, called Stan and said I couldn't play music with him that night and took a few Valium and a rest. So I saw the Un-Hyphen twice last week. I see her again Tuesday.
And that is what has been going on. Depressed and grieving I moved through my week. Hopefully this week, well, who knows.
Tuesday, December 15, 2015
Repose
Hanukkah is over and Christmas and New Year's approach. Seasonal depression is upon me. I don't mind the cold and snow but no sun...that is the rub. I need my sun to keep my cheery disposition.
UnHyphen is working out well. I had an additional session with her this week as I was uncertain if I wanted to keep working with her but the session went well and I feel relieved to have the newest search for a therapist over and and done with. I had a thought that maybe a therapist who was Jewish might be a better fit but none in the area take my insurance and I am not about to shell out $200 an hour out of pocket to facilitate this possibility. So for the time I will stick with UnHyphen and ponder if I want to see the original Hyphen if she returns to practice. If Hyphen 2.0 had worked out long term that wouldn't be an issue. Now I am thinking about Hyphen as a possible solution. The only thing about the UnHyphen I do not like is the mandated Blue Care Network 45 minute hour. It used to be the 50 minute hour and who knew I would miss those five minutes. Now Hyphen 2.0 sessions would run over an hour (a real hour) as she liked working with me, or so she said. But UnHyphen sticks to a schedule and sees a client every 45 minutes.
I had an incident with my primary care doctor a bit back. It was not the first time she kept me waiting over an hour to see her. But I was, ostensibly, the first appointment of the day and one hour and fifteen minutes of waiting made me walk out of the office with my lab results in hand and a demand to have a new primary care doctor assigned to me, all that was without seeing my doctor. The last time she ran over an hour late I kind of laid into her about my time being valuable and not having enough time to constantly wait for her overbooked schedule to accommodate my needs. Thus, a new doctor. I thought maybe she was doing this on purpose as she didn't like working with me. Maybe she didn't and this was her passive aggressive approach to dealing with me. In any event I am seeing a new, yet to be named, doctor or nurse practitioner. I just need someone to order labs, read them and they give me my regular prescriptions on a yearly basis.
Other than that I have been entertaining a great deal and enjoying having the house as my place to do so. Sunday coming I will go pick up my holiday cheese order from the farm market. They have a particular favorite, a chipotle espresso cheddar. A little heat a little coffee taste and a hearty heigh ho cheddar. Also the triple creme brie with almonds and apricots. The new two events with be the new year's bowl games, featuring a victorious MSU team and then a quiet New Year's day dinner, replete with a rib roast and Yorkshire pudding. Percy and Phyllis will be there as will Mustang Lady and her GM husband. And an old friend from the library who wishes to meet this new beau of Phyllis. Then a weekend to recover and then no staff holidays until Memorial day. It should be a good chance to start building up my vacation time. Right now I have minor hand surgery planned for the 15th of January to release a trigger finger. Then it is smooth sailing. Well, not so fast.
Seems one of the jamming Jews, a emeritus sociology prof, is intent on playing music with me once a week. He isn't very good but he is enthusiastic. This is another case of me needing to set some boundaries. When he comes he stays over two hours. One wouldn't be bad but two is torture. I need to say to him I have to get something around after an hour. He is coming today (but can't come the next two weeks...aw, shucks). So I shall gird my loins and see if I can, indeed, set some boundaries.
And so it goes.
UnHyphen is working out well. I had an additional session with her this week as I was uncertain if I wanted to keep working with her but the session went well and I feel relieved to have the newest search for a therapist over and and done with. I had a thought that maybe a therapist who was Jewish might be a better fit but none in the area take my insurance and I am not about to shell out $200 an hour out of pocket to facilitate this possibility. So for the time I will stick with UnHyphen and ponder if I want to see the original Hyphen if she returns to practice. If Hyphen 2.0 had worked out long term that wouldn't be an issue. Now I am thinking about Hyphen as a possible solution. The only thing about the UnHyphen I do not like is the mandated Blue Care Network 45 minute hour. It used to be the 50 minute hour and who knew I would miss those five minutes. Now Hyphen 2.0 sessions would run over an hour (a real hour) as she liked working with me, or so she said. But UnHyphen sticks to a schedule and sees a client every 45 minutes.
I had an incident with my primary care doctor a bit back. It was not the first time she kept me waiting over an hour to see her. But I was, ostensibly, the first appointment of the day and one hour and fifteen minutes of waiting made me walk out of the office with my lab results in hand and a demand to have a new primary care doctor assigned to me, all that was without seeing my doctor. The last time she ran over an hour late I kind of laid into her about my time being valuable and not having enough time to constantly wait for her overbooked schedule to accommodate my needs. Thus, a new doctor. I thought maybe she was doing this on purpose as she didn't like working with me. Maybe she didn't and this was her passive aggressive approach to dealing with me. In any event I am seeing a new, yet to be named, doctor or nurse practitioner. I just need someone to order labs, read them and they give me my regular prescriptions on a yearly basis.
Other than that I have been entertaining a great deal and enjoying having the house as my place to do so. Sunday coming I will go pick up my holiday cheese order from the farm market. They have a particular favorite, a chipotle espresso cheddar. A little heat a little coffee taste and a hearty heigh ho cheddar. Also the triple creme brie with almonds and apricots. The new two events with be the new year's bowl games, featuring a victorious MSU team and then a quiet New Year's day dinner, replete with a rib roast and Yorkshire pudding. Percy and Phyllis will be there as will Mustang Lady and her GM husband. And an old friend from the library who wishes to meet this new beau of Phyllis. Then a weekend to recover and then no staff holidays until Memorial day. It should be a good chance to start building up my vacation time. Right now I have minor hand surgery planned for the 15th of January to release a trigger finger. Then it is smooth sailing. Well, not so fast.
Seems one of the jamming Jews, a emeritus sociology prof, is intent on playing music with me once a week. He isn't very good but he is enthusiastic. This is another case of me needing to set some boundaries. When he comes he stays over two hours. One wouldn't be bad but two is torture. I need to say to him I have to get something around after an hour. He is coming today (but can't come the next two weeks...aw, shucks). So I shall gird my loins and see if I can, indeed, set some boundaries.
And so it goes.
Thursday, December 10, 2015
A wished for hissy fit
Hasn't materialized as of yet. But it is earnestly and a heartfelt desire. Geez, where is the Magic Plastic Tuna's angst when you want it? AH, maybe she has yet to peer over the cube's walls to see the pretty bulb on every other window. How festival, how full of Christmas cheer. Let not the naysayers quibble about the war on Christmas...it ain't happening here. My Hanukkah cup of cheer requires some Christmas overtone. Why, hell, I went out late the other night to see the Christmas lights in the neighborhood. Its is something we Jews do this time of year, not unlike the mandatory Chinese restaurant visit on Christmas day. Almost obligatory. A part of the Jewish Holiday ritual.
Still...I wait and hope.
Still...I wait and hope.
Amazement
Much to my surprise and amazement the gas company landscaped my front lawn this week, removing the eyesore that was the mounds of dirt on my front lawn. That has served to cheer me up.
This week after therapy my pal from Jamming Jews stopped by and wanted to play music for a few hours. I, again much to my surprise, agreed and he stayed for solid hours. Seems I have trouble setting boundaries. He can't read music and has no sense of timing or rhythm so it was a mournful two hours, especially coming after a hard therapy session. I, again, much to my amazement, agreed to have him over next week. I will say one thing for him, or maybe two: He is earnest about playing and enthusiastic as well. It is unfortunate that his playing doesn't quite match his enthusiasm. And he kept trying to say I was not playing the melody as written, which in fact I was. God help me.
And speaking of which, I suspect the MPT will be all up in arms over the Christmas decorations that have appeared in the workplace over night. Or at least I can hope. I want a rant...a good one...full of sound and fury, as Macbeth would say, signifying nothing. Oh, my world for a temper tantrum. Any minute now.
Once again I did not sleep much last night, staying up late to watch MSNBC and then unable to sleep. See, I had to do laundry around 8:00 as I was napping on the couch only to be awakened by the dulcet tones of Gonif Cat puking on me. Off went the clothes, into the shower went I and then down to the laundry room to do the wash. By 11 all was washed and dried and the puking festival was yet another unpleasant memory.
I have neglected to open any Hanukkah presents the last two nights as one: I was tired and depressed, and two: I was depressed and tired. Tonight I shall make up for lost time. Sherpa, Sophie and myself are going to the Dickens' Dinner on campus and look forward to a festive evening. Mayhap with the festivities I will feel like opening a few presents. Sophie is taking me grocery shopping today and them home while we wait for the magic hour of 7:00 p.m. and the start of the festivities. Maybe between the "offensive" Christmas ornaments and the MPT my holiday spirits will be renewed and I can rejoice in my holiday.
So until then adieu, adieu...
This week after therapy my pal from Jamming Jews stopped by and wanted to play music for a few hours. I, again much to my surprise, agreed and he stayed for solid hours. Seems I have trouble setting boundaries. He can't read music and has no sense of timing or rhythm so it was a mournful two hours, especially coming after a hard therapy session. I, again, much to my amazement, agreed to have him over next week. I will say one thing for him, or maybe two: He is earnest about playing and enthusiastic as well. It is unfortunate that his playing doesn't quite match his enthusiasm. And he kept trying to say I was not playing the melody as written, which in fact I was. God help me.
And speaking of which, I suspect the MPT will be all up in arms over the Christmas decorations that have appeared in the workplace over night. Or at least I can hope. I want a rant...a good one...full of sound and fury, as Macbeth would say, signifying nothing. Oh, my world for a temper tantrum. Any minute now.
Once again I did not sleep much last night, staying up late to watch MSNBC and then unable to sleep. See, I had to do laundry around 8:00 as I was napping on the couch only to be awakened by the dulcet tones of Gonif Cat puking on me. Off went the clothes, into the shower went I and then down to the laundry room to do the wash. By 11 all was washed and dried and the puking festival was yet another unpleasant memory.
I have neglected to open any Hanukkah presents the last two nights as one: I was tired and depressed, and two: I was depressed and tired. Tonight I shall make up for lost time. Sherpa, Sophie and myself are going to the Dickens' Dinner on campus and look forward to a festive evening. Mayhap with the festivities I will feel like opening a few presents. Sophie is taking me grocery shopping today and them home while we wait for the magic hour of 7:00 p.m. and the start of the festivities. Maybe between the "offensive" Christmas ornaments and the MPT my holiday spirits will be renewed and I can rejoice in my holiday.
So until then adieu, adieu...
Wednesday, December 2, 2015
Post big dig, prior to the bigger dig.
My new home adventure or the Big Dig
Photos later but first a story. For a while, a month maybe more, I just caught a whiff of natural gas when I entered my house. No one else seemed to notice so I wasn't too concerned. But yesterday I thought " Nu, so get it checked out". So I did. Now my front lawn and half the street is dug up fixing a major rupture to my gas line coming into the house. And, oh lucky me, we did not have to evacuate the house last night, just stay up until 12:30 a.m. while they put in a temporary line to the house. And, oh yes, they'll be back today to put in a permanent line and hopefully they won't need to demolish the porch to get to the rest of the gas line. So at least I had heat and hot water last night but I think the rose bed I put in last spring is no more.
So when the skies lighten I will send pictures, a.k.a. the rest of the story.
So when the skies lighten I will send pictures, a.k.a. the rest of the story.
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