It’s gloomy outside and cold and light flakes of snow are falling.
There are a few birds twittering among the still leafless branches of the walnut trees.
There is a dog whining at my elbow.
The spousal unit brought me a present this morning. I don’t know why. He is so filled with hate and anger. All of it seems to be directed at my loss of employment and my son. We are preventing him from retiring.
Bi-polar disorder affects the patient and his family. It is a horrible illness to live with, made worse if the patient refuses treatment for underlying issues.
I am sad. I am happy. I worry. I leave it to the universe to sort out.
It IS what it IS.
I am hungry for real food after five days of liquids and hot cereal. I’ve lost 6 pounds. Not an ideal situation for the gastric bypass and my borderline status for qualifying.
I am hungry to finish something begun long ago.
Yet I struggle, even as a senior, to overcome ennui and a paralysis I cannot identify.
Fear of failure? Long ago dreams never honored.
Perennial optimism shrouds bone-weariness.
There is a roof to repair.
A bathroom requires propping up from beneath.
There is a fence line to clear.
This house truly is a money pit.
Perhaps it’s time to let it go, this place I’ve called home for over half a century.
Is that even possible?
I will open the notes. I will open my mind.
I will finish the outline.
I will fashion a new chapter in this life.