I feel like the little engine that could, chugga-chugga-chugging up the hill. Passing over a regular hill on an average day but it still takes a shit load of will and power to make it to the next. Still in the back of my mind, I wonder when I will be confronted with mountains. But thats tomorrow.
Life never ceases to wonder. Endless, soul-stretching, energized life. Every new step in any direction presents new discoveries, memories and burdens. But at the end of the day, just like Anne of Green Gables said best “isn’t it nice to think that tomorrow is a new day with no mistakes in it yet?” That is the truest wonder of ’em all.
On a different note…
I am so fed up with all this crap.
I have a new appreciation the ordinary.
And predictability. I just love predictability. There is great comfort in organization and order. Something to count on. Estimation is so last week.
I love knowing.
Don’t we all…
Its been a beautiful week in the neighborhood. Really, it has. Its been patchily sunny but the leaves have begun to change into their fall getup which you would be hard pressed to find someone who didn’t love it. I love things with tons of color to overload my senses, like a mall or a peek in a box of crayons. Or fall leaves. Spaghetti sauces have been made, recordly piercing fire alarms have gone off,museums have been prowled and aunties have laughed and left on a jet planes. It has been some exciting times here in the big city.
Oh! Right and silly me. I left out a little something.
There is the matter of the coffee stir straw sticking out of my arm. Of course. That.
The picc-line. Its an IV with sense of humor and style of Picasso. We’re charmed to have met. I know very deep down that it is in me to HELP but there is that strange little urge in us all – like the urge to throw cream pies at friends or whip a boomerang – that makes me want to rip that damn thing out of my arm. The thought really grosses me out.
I would use words such as ‘tender’ and ‘icky’ or ‘blackish purple’, ‘coffee straw’ or ‘backstabbing helper’ to describe it.
In little laymans terms, it basically is a permanent IV that happily sits in the inside of my arm, above my elbow. A little thread runs up the vein and up almost to my heart. Getting the medicine is like using an iPod: plug in earphones, turn it on and you’re good to go. I will probably never look at an iPod in the same way now that I’ve thought of it like that.
The part that I try to bear in mind is that this is the first step. From now on, it’s like I’m doing something proactive to get myself better. I try to think of it like this, because as it has to get worse before it ‘clears up’, it certainly doesn’t feel like it. It needs some time. And love.
We’re working on it. I SO wanna get back. To get there.
I can’t wait to get back to verb-ing again.
I certainly have been perfecting a few verbs. I can conjugate them in a few languages. I have great practice. And patience.
I’m working on the rest of my verb list
Verb-ing : definition-> the act of living with motion and integrity.