The day is coming to a close, and I’m ready to say good-bye to a unique week. I’m watching a 1948 romantic comedy with Betty Davis. It seems like the perfect way to quietly drift into a wonderful weekend. Bob returns from his all-male week of fishing and doing all of those guy things that I prefer not to mention. (I hope he’s squeezed at least one shower into life in a cabin amidst fishing, eating, sleeping, grunting and scratching.) I’ve managed to get some things done around here that have mysteriously been put on the back burner of Bob’s Honey Do List while continuing my feeble attempts at remaining vertical. Somehow, wine seems to help.
I’ve completed two of the three requirements for my lazyman triathlon and just have some bicycling to finish up. I must admit it felt mighty fine finishing that last lap in the pool today knowing my goal was fast approaching. My pride didn’t have too much time to inflate since getting out of the pool was quite a sight. My ankle decided it had enough of this exercise stuff. Let me just assure you that the two lifeguards were downright speedy rushing to my aid. Staff is accustomed to my Weeble walk but still worry when I go facedown. I can only use the excuse of examining the flooring so many times.
It feels good to just sit and review my week stretching for independence. I have kept on moving despite muddy pajamas, jackhammers and dizzy walks throughout the neighborhood. These posts have been full of a variety of emotions from anger and frustration to quiet contemplation. I’m realizing that I don’t fit all of the stereotypes of bipolar disorders; I’m more of an octingentipolar gal. (That’s not a real word, but you get the idea.)
The movie had ended, and my wine glass sits empty. It was wonderful to see a film with no violence, fighting or language that I prefer my grandsons wouldn’t hear. I pray that I can somehow quickly learn to reign in my emotions and face my chronic pain in a manner more even keeled. Objectively, I realize that chronic pain is part of who I am while knowing it is just ONE part. I just need to work on the subjective part.
I have The Mighty Three plus another Thirty Two. Life is significantly slower, but changes are good for one’s soul. I might get crotchety, yet I’m kind of cute even if I’m 90 pounds overweight. The movie has ended at a perfect time to post this blog. Have a great weekend everyone.
Ways God Reminds Me That Through Chronic Pain, Life is Good:
•“Still” nights have a double meaning when you have vertigo.
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