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I have been having water dreams lately. Lots and lots of water dreams for weeks, I think. Water dreams are strange things for me. They have always been portents of huge and significant changes. And generally not good changes. They are always similar in character. I am by the ocean and the waves are huge, engulfing everything, and I am trying to survive, to push through them, to stave them off. Doesn’t take a Jungian dream analyst to figure that one out, does it? What I know for sure is that they are certain predictors of something big happening. Generally, how I am able to survive in the dream indicates the level of intimacy with which the change will affect me, but not always. Sometimes, there are people I know with me in the dream, and they are usually impacted in real life whenever the change comes.

So, another water dream last night, coming on the heels of yesterday. Yesterday sucked. I won’t really go into why yesterday sucked. Suffice it to say that it did. BIG TIME. I am hoping today will be better. Hope springs eternal.

Ex-Pat has endocarditis and septicemia. He will be in hospital at least until Friday. According to my readings on the Internet, this is scary stuff. Really scary stuff.

The Internet can be your trusted friend or that devious individual on the street corner hissing to you that the world will end soon and he will take care of your pets when the rapture comes.  When too much information on one topic is available, it is easy and hard at the same time to pick what you are going to believe. I read that septicemia is the same as sepsis, and that the odds of survival are about even. I read that it wasn’t, and that the survival odds are about 90 percent. I read that endocarditis can cause strokes, and that he’d have about six months to live even after recovery. I didn’t read anywhere that he would pop out of his hospital bed on Friday and start romping with the lambs. And what I heard him say last night, when I pointed out to him that without getting treatment he would have died and pretty darn quick at that, was that maybe that would have been better, as his daughter is the only thing he has to live for. (Which to me is a huge reason to keep living.) But he’s lost his will. He’s in too  much pain to walk, and they don’t know why. Things are looking bleak, to say the least.

I think I will try to talk to his doctor to get the full scoop, as he is too doped up to tell me much. Then at least I can share what is real with Kelsea, who comes home today.

On the other hand, I am still at his house, and it is filthy. Filthy. Just disgusting. Even though I said it is not my job to clean this place, and I know it isn’t, I am going to do so, enlisting Kelsea to help, so she can see what clean is, and how to make things that way. I can’t let her live in a place that is like this. In clearing off the kitchen table, I found receipts from 2009. And that was probably the most pleasant of my finds. I remember he was always mad at me because of all the paperwork in the house that I never went through. Now that he’s having to deal with his own mail, and receipts, and crap, I suspect he understands, but he would never own up to it.

I may even tear up all the rugs and try to find replacements at ReStore. They will never be clean, ever, no matter what I do. I will get the handyman to come in and get the holes in the walls patched. I will try to rebuild my own sense of love and trust. I will do two jobs and manage two houses. And then I will sprout wings and a horn out of my head and become a human unicorn.

I’m being realistic.

Aren’t I?

Bad Hamster

You run rampant
but not free,
never free.

The wheel keeps turning endlessly.

Even when you slow down
that wheel
just keeps on
and keeps on
and keeps on

Your rest is an illusion
as the wheel carries you
and down,
and over.

You scramble against it,
but the more you fight it,
the faster it goes.

Your heart tries
to pound its way
out of your chest.

You watch
to see if it will
through your skin

And stil

and your world


It feels like you can’t ever



You are
a very bad hamster.


What a broad range of emotions I seem to have at my disposal today.

Today is the Captain’s birthday.  Even though I have another wonderful man in my life, I can’t help but miss him.  His voice could always make me smile.  A toast tonight is in order – ‘To fair winds and absent companions.’  He certainly had a shining spirit and I was lucky to have him in my life for his last few years.

The news of my job ending shouldn’t have come as a shock.  In fact, it didn’t come as a shock.  It’s what I had expected and known for some time.  So why is it upsetting me so much?  I came very close to a panic attack this morning (after I had dragged my sorry ass out of the bed in which I wished to remain with the covers pulled over my head for about 6 months.)  It may be that it’s just the overwhelming nature of things right now:

a) divorce will be final on January 4th;
b) need to transfer all the bills that belong to Pat over to him;
c) need to give him an IRA and a big honking check;
d) need to transfer the car titles to him;
e) need to get the Directory ready for press;
f) need to recollect art files for the newsletter;
g) need to wrap presents;
h) need to get Kelsea’s present;
i) need to mail things to E-Bro – and you can be darn sure they’re not arriving by Christmas;
j) need to lose 30 pounds;
k) need to figure out how on earth I’m going to make ends meet;
l) need to plan my future….

Yes, I know that last three items won’t happen in the next couple of weeks.  But this is what I do – I load it all on until I overwhelm myself.  Not a very smart approach.  I need to just sit with one thing at a time and not have wild, rabid hamsters rampaging through my brain during daylight hours.   God, I’m so smart – now why can’t I listen to my own advice?

So if you see a festive-looking woman in a santa hat having a complete breakdown in a shopping mall, well, that will be me.  Stop and say hi.

July 2018
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