Things are picking up what with my area being in yellow (up? down? from red). I still am hibernating — it’s my natural state. Life’s sense of humor continues, unabated. Let’s catch up on My Corona.
It’s been 24 days since my last post, but I thought it’s only been, like, two weeks. So maybe we’ll go with that? Let’s talk about fhoughts/update you on My Carona.
Honest to blog, I thought this was week four of the updates. It’s SatThurSun today, right? Let’s catch up on My Carona.
I’m blogging. It’s not like I have a ton of things I have to do besides that right now, eh?
Is this thing on?
*taps microphone then wipes it and my hands profusely with hand santizier*
My exploration of deciding whether or not to escape a situation that I can no longer take, don’t want to be a part of, can really do nothing for — a swirl of drama all around me — inspired my subconscious jukebox and explains I Woke Up Singing today.
I’ve so done this before. The thing about life, though — similar things keep happening and you have to handle them. So I breathe and reboot, take 1,000. *clapboard claps*
I’ve held my tongue. I’ve kept my mouth shut. Until the past few weeks.
Bits and pieces came out, then a deluge of truth I could no longer keep to myself. It’s a good thing I like solitude, because once you tell people what’s really going on, they often don’t want to spend time with you after that.
A dream about school and life events that I’m only now connecting after becoming fully awake explain what I Woke Up Singing today. And what song would that be?
I’m coming out of a fog into a haze of snow. I’m psychologically and emotionally spent, and I’m merely adjacent to the turmoil around me. That’s not 100 percent true — I knew her, too — not deeply, but enough to be disturbed by the news, let alone the aftermath of the little bit that has fallen to me to deal with. Four days ago, my boss’s wife died unexpectedly. The door on her life is closed. Continue reading →
A year ago, at this very moment, I could still say I had never broken a bone. By 7 p.m. or so that same night, I could no longer say the same.