As my dream
ended, so did my sleep. Although it was
quite late for breakfast, I quietly made a cup of steaming hot Yorkshire gold
tea, and slowly sipped it as I curled up in my armchair that comfortably loves
me, and stared out of the window onto the world of the street I live on. Such peace for a short time until reality
replaced it with pestering cats wanting breakfast before dinner.
It’s been a
lonely life in a way, with car seats as hard as my concrete benches. It’s as if the devil himself is driving me
into the jaws of hell when I take my place on that unforgiving cushion of
pain. I can say the same about sitting
at this computer for any length of time, like now, as I try to ignore the
increasing pain. Of course, it’s not
what I’m sitting on that’s guilty; it’s the pinched nerve in my tush that is
incapable of un-pinching. Steroid
injections and ice packs are my reality.
After years
of complaining of a buzzing sensation over my body when going to bed, my
orthopedic doctor’s technician diagnosed me with peripheral neuropathy pain when
she saw me on a visit after I couldn’t sleep all night because my feet felt
like they were on fire. Still perfecting
the dosage, how I feel now after taking pregabalin (Lyrica), seems just short
of a miracle. The pain endured from my
degenerative disk disease has also lessened, and I find it possible to wake up
after a full night’s sleep with less pain.
Enough of
all that babbling, and on with this morning. Just finished a breakfast of leafy green
salad, and now on to whole grain crackers slathered in almond butter and black
cherry jam, just because I eat when my focus on my life is out of kilter. This morning’s dream…a dream filled with bits
and pieces plucked out of that rusty old file cabinet of life’s horrors stored
in that section of my mind that never forgets things in random sequence.
I’m on the
main street of my little home town with two friends soon joined by a third
friend. We stop at the soda fountain at
the five and dime store for milkshakes.
Somehow I wind up with a box full of books, pamphlets and papers. We all get up to go, and as I put on my coat,
I realize my friends have already exited the store. My drink and box of books are gone.
I’m
wondering if the clerk or my friends took them. I hurry out the door and watch my friends
talking to each other as they walk down the sidewalk, and I’m wondering if they will realize I’m not with them and wait for me. As they drive off in their car, I’m left
alone…as if invisible even when acknowledged.
If anyone wants a rusty old file cabinet… it’s free.
It would
seem I’m still celebrating Christmas, since my decorations haven’t leaped off
the walls and wrapped themselves up for storage. Some of the fault is my quest for a feeling
of the beauty of the Christmas’s of my youth, and realizing as I stare at the
fireplace display, that feeling is not there.
Basically, I hate it.
Another set
of boxes for height; three more snowmen, as a bunch of Santa Clauses staring
just gives one the heebie jeebies; and a collection of trees. Still lacking, all the nooks and crannies are
being stuffed with smaller remembrances of reindeer, mice and stars. Preferring paper mache and cloth over resin,
I’m settling for resin more often than not.
Very hard finding the old anymore.
Vic quit his
full time part time job, and I’m earnestly working on finishing my ‘me
room’. As much as I care about my
husband, being in his space twenty four hours a day seven days a week is not my
cup of tea. Checking into the reality
clinic, most of my crafts paraphernalia is gone. I literally have no one to give things to or
make things for, so that part of my life no longer works for me.
The old
particleboard desk is being replaced by a wood credenza that I might receive within
three months time, due to the situation of slow processing these days. Vic already gave me a large TV and all the
junk that goes with it, as it’s all most important according to life with
Vic. Music’s most important according to
life with Yvonne.
At this
moment, I literally know not where my next day will lead me. What do I want for the remaining years of my
life? Dying in my sleep doesn’t seem to
be an option according to Vic… he gets a little perturb when I mention it
:) Hopefully I’ll figure it out before
the end of time.
While the
temperature today was to be closer to 50 degrees, the reality plus the extreme
winds made it quite freezing outside while I attempted to photograph the
remains of a glorious summer tucked in for the wintery weather ahead. I literally had to go where the wind blew me
if I didn’t want a battle. The
sparseness of my efforts doesn’t leave me with much to work with, but perhaps
it’s befitting of a life not quite on track.
While I
began this piece with breakfast, I’m ending it hours beyond night chasing day over the horizon. After many breaks, my bum can
take it no longer, and it will take twenty minutes on icy gel packs before I
shout out halleluiah. A walk outside
with the dog reveals tiny ice flakes sifting onto the earth with a few actual
snowflakes mixed in.
Perhaps I’ll
wake up to a lovely light layer of snow, perhaps not. Either way, it will be serene to quietly make
a cup of steaming hot Yorkshire Gold tea, and slowly sip it as I curl up in my
armchair that comfortably loves me, and stare out of the window onto the world
of the street I live on. Take care.
