This weekend, a friend and I took our daughters to White Lake. I grew up going there for a week every summer — it’s a place full of so much nostalgia. Extra so, since absolutely nothing has changed in the last 30 years. Well ok, fewer people chain smoking on the beach. Also, there are now mini fridges in the motel rooms.
Hi there. It’s me, Rhiannon. I am currently super caffeinated. I am currently not super depressed. Those two things have nothing to do with each other, I just wanted to give you a head’s up about the first thing. The blog post is more about the second thing.
The last few weeks have left me raw. A bundle of nerve endings too close to the surface, chafed by every tiny demand thrown by life. It would short circuit and leave me feeling stuck in the murky darkness, where feelings are different. Less than and greater than at the same time — a heavy fog shrouding the world in a deep sense of dread and confusion. I was aware that there were alternatives to the be found — that happiness did exist as a gossamer, intangible idea somewhere beyond the grey. A theoretical thing. If I reached for it, my hand came back empty.
Squirt is still with us. He’s consistently below five pounds now and his legs collapse every couple of steps. But he’s still eating and getting where he needs to go with no signs of pain. He can’t get in and out of the litter box very well, but puppy piddle pads (brand is called lil squirts!!) are working just fine.
There was a cup of water in my hallway.
I stepped over it several times before I realized I should probably pick it up. Once more, before I gathered the motivation.
So, it’s teacher appreciation week. That’s basically a test for adults. And I am not nearly adulty enough to have to do specific things at specific times.