“Do you know how much mental energy I expend just trying to picture women naked?”

sloth

I’m recovering from rapid energy depletion.  My washing machine broke.  It resulted in two maintenance visits in my home on consecutive days.  The first visit included the head of maintenance, as well, whom I suspect is hard of hearing.  In any case, he speaks loudly.  He’s quite friendly and chatty.  He even tightened my door handle on his way out when he noticed it was loose.

Regardless of how cool he is, I can barely remain in my body when he’s near.  I have a fingernails-on-chalkboard-level reaction to him, against my will.  I managed to exchange polite greetings (while standing in front of the balcony door, debating about fleeing outside.)  The second visit was just the maintenance person, who replaced the faulty part and confirmed it worked in about twenty minutes.  Yay.

I had to lay down for a bit afterward.  I have a rule about no naps during the day, ever, (because it sabotages my sleep routine.)  But all the energy I was planning on using for the rest of the day was gone.  I crashed as soon as vertical and stayed there for two hours.  Then I got back up and told my pets we’re performing an official do-over.

doing laundry

It’s not a ruined day; it’s just a time-shifted day.  (The difference is whatever I make of it.)  I decided I’m going to switch things up a little.  Now that I’ve been watching TV daily, I’m reading less.  Naturally, I’ve decided I need to prioritize which shows to keep (and dump the rest) because this doesn’t work for me.  I recently purchased an HBO subscription, and have a few new shows I’ll continue watching, along with (Game of Thrones when it resumes.)

Westworld is my new favorite show, in the meantime.  The soundtrack is my favorite part.  It’s by Ramin Djwadi, who also scores Game of Thrones.  I love the theme song;  it’s a composition lesson to me.  The show is well written and performed.  Noticing the well thought out details in the script is like finding easter eggs in video games.  I’m completely enthralled.  Another show I’m keeping is called High Maintenance, (also on HBO.)  The last is Grace and Frankie on Netflix.

The wind has been calling me, telling me it’s time to read The Name of the Wind by Patrick Rothfuss, again.  Just thinking of it feels like coming home after a trying day.  I’m looking forward to spring because I plan on rearranging my living space to suit my lifestyle better.  I’ll be using a lot I learned from watching Marie Kondo on Netflix.  I love her; she’s a joy virus.  (Never thought I’d use those words together!)  I’m off to read. ✌🏽💜

“The heat pump blew all the fuses.”

house on top of building

I’m preparing to embark on a project with M, soon.  We’re going to design and build a miniature version of our dream house.  We’re still negotiating the materials.  (You know I want to use 3D printers. 😉)  M insists the final design must be as detailed and tactile as possible without spending a small fortune.  My inner hippie jumped forward and suggested (out loud) we use recycled Amazon boxes as a sole source of materials.

Isn’t it weird when your gut reaction is so spot on, it has layers of rightness that slowly and steadily reveal themselves?  And you think to yourself; maybe I’m more complicated than I realize.  🤔  (Then something shiny happens, and you laugh and forget all about it?)  Heh.  I should probably stop believing we’re still in negotiations over which materials to use.  (No-dee-duh.)

colorful painted houses

We’re in the thinking about it stage.  I’ve been watching lots of house shows on Netflix and noting features I appreciate.  I’ve also had a few glue-gun fiasco flashbacks from when I made my custom RGB LED lights.  And that time I cut off the tip of my finger when making my last quilt.  (As far as I can tell, it grew back.  Yay.)  I’m confident I won’t have these issues now that being deliberately present is a habit.  💪🏽

I think it’s cool that I learned it from studying Stevie Nicks interviews on YouTube as the first domino in a series of life lessons from various sources.  From take your time and exist at your natural pace, to full-on hippie status on my journey to enlightenment.  I’m dead chuffed.  (Shup.  Been waiting for ages to use that phrase.) 😂  I didn’t even know music was an epic teaching tool a decade ago.

The Army already taught me novels could only get you so far, but when paired with music, it’s a surprising distance.  I feel like I’m just getting warmed up in my exploration of music that moves me.  I’m embarking on a study of Dolly Parton, now.  No introduction or explanation is necessary;  she’s fabulous.  I strongly suspect she has lots to teach me.  Yay.  (Old school triple-threat; where the third threat is a topic that can easily lead to violence, especially if alcohol is involved.) 🤭

grado headphones

I can listen to Jolene on repeat for hours.  I love that song.  I’m also looking forward to watching Nine to Five, The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas, Straight Talk, Steel Magnolias, and Joyful Noise, again.  I’m not really into country music, but some of it jumps out and says, yes you are, at times.  Some artists pull fans from all genre preferences, and Dolly Parton is one of them.  I’m off to watch my shows.  ✌🏽💜

“No! I don’t want to save seats. Don’t put me through that!”

astronaut art

Since the Fleetwood Mac concert, I’ve been quiet, calm, and surprisingly tranquil (considering the world is on fire.)  I’ve spent a lot of time thinking.  It’s funny how a rock ‘n’ roll concert, in all its heart-thumping glory, can trigger inner stillness and contemplation in the aftermath.  I wasn’t stapled to the floor as anticipated as a result, either.  I’ve merely slept more deeply and productively;  Bonus.

I sense some healing took place during the experience.  Yay.  I’m not very good at narrowing these things down.  (I probably can’t be bothered in my rush to celebrate.)  There are light and airy feelings I associate with healing recognition; like a gentle euphoria — a release of a burden whose loss keeps almost surprising you.  I love it when positivity is playful.

My body is depressed today.  It feels strange when my emotions don’t match my physical response.  I prefer body depression over mental depression.  I’ll take an annoyance over despair anytime.  It still takes a lot of pep talks to get anything done, though.  Gravity has suddenly increased in my dot of the universe.  Even sitting upright to type this is taxing.  (Still better than despair.)  Heh.

optical illusion photo

The hot flashes associated with menopause are over.  I didn’t know they were temporary!  I thought it was for life!  I’m so thrilled by this discovery.  Upon further consideration, menopause rocks, yo.  (I mean.  I don’t know what’s coming up that requires hair in weird places, but whatever.)  Love.  It.  It’s easier to get up earlier now, too.  I must have reached the oh-shit-it’s-morning-exasperation saturation point, and started wrapping things up sooner subconsciously.  So ninja.  😂

I just took a short break to catch my breath.  Body depression is ridiculous.  I’m not a chain smoker.  Typing at my desk should not render me breathless.  At least not without the agonizing soul ache that typically accompanies.  I feel like I put the world on backward today.  It fits better this way.  Heh. (Puts a star in the blessings column.)  What?  🙃

I failed on my first attempt at seeing my primary care physician.  It was too cold to risk.  (I think the windchill was -52 F.)  I stepped outside and did an immediate about-face.  Sadly, their’s no DIY option to reschedule online.  You have to call or go in person.  (I don’t speak on the phone.)  I plan to go there to order my glasses and reschedule on my way out.  I got two snail mail letters from the VA with a deadline of February 14th to reschedule.  (Sorry, not sorry about your agoraphobia, bitch?)  😶

Anyway, I can do it.  I’m aiming for a day with temperatures above 0 F.  Monday is looking hopeful.  It’s harder to combat agoraphobia during severe weather.  I forgive myself for choosing safety over victory.  The days of shrugging off weird weather are gone.   Journey before destination.  I’m off to test my new coat heater while I walk the dog.  💜✌🏾

“I saw someone on the street eating M&M’s with a spoon.”

The Fleetwood Mac concert was last night.  I still have a massive grin on my face.  I’m floating on a cloud of joy, today.  Since I attended alone, I took a Lyft ride there and back.  Aside from struggling to locate my Lyft driver among so many others after the show, it proved ideal.  Instead of waiting in lines, the crowd smoothly flowed through security to our seats.  It was like being gently guided.

twitterish meme
joke credit: VisualVox

I was seated among lovely people who reminded me why I love Sioux Falls so much.  A woman seated with her partner in front of me turned around and gave me a high-five when the band took the stage.  I was between a group of young women and two men around my age.  We spontaneously swayed arm-in-arm to the music several times while singing along.  😮😍😆🙃

It startled me at first, but I played it off and joined in.  Then I internally celebrated my happy amazement over bonding with local strangers without the slightest bit of panic.  I had floor seats, so we stood from the moment the music began until the band took a bow at the end.  I wore cargo pants with a leg pocket for my phone, which was perfect.  I didn’t lose anything while mesmerized by the performance.  Yay.

happy doof

After a few songs, I realized I was standing there on tiptoes with my hands clutched in fists just below my chin, shoulders hunched, eyes open as wide as they go, and presumably a super goofy expression around my grin.  (Part of me is secretly hoping the band couldn’t see us well from beneath the lighting.)  I couldn’t help it.  (Even though I’ve seen photos of people doing this, and thought they looked like doofs.)  Heh.

I had a fantastic time.  I did see one other black person, but I think he worked there.  😂  (I didn’t look around at the audience once the band started playing.)  Mick Fleetwood’s drumming blew my mind.  His kit is gold with penguins on the kick drum.  After stunning us with his skills, he got up and casually tossed his sticks while exiting the stage.  (So cool.)  He did all the faces, too.  I love him.  😆

The magical vibe that only Fleetwood Mac can create remains wrapped around me like a hug.  Watching Stevie Nicks in her element with my own eyes was a bucket list moment.  She rocked.  I love her.  (I’m making that face again.)  Christine McVie came out from behind the keyboards to sing beside Stevie Nicks, too.  (I may have involuntarily squeed.)  I loved seeing Sharon Celani and Lori Nicks singing backup, as well.  The band sounded fabulous.  The percussion and bass were felt as well as heard, (which is how it should be.)

The new lineup is tight and smooth together.  I think they’re even better now.  (Yep.  I said it.)  The tribute to Tom Petty was brilliant.  I’m off to continue being a happy doof while I practice drumming.  ✌🏾💜

p.s. Here’s the photo I took (just before I forgot my phone could do that.)

Fleetwood Mac concert Sioux Falls

“What’s with all that sniffing?”

child at aquarium viewing polar bear swimming

I’m having a good 2019, so far.  (I’m already keeping track.)  Heh.  Ever since I leveled up in the game of life, I’m more apt to notice positivity.  It amuses me as I used to be one of those people who automatically scoffed at others saying, “think positive.”  As if thinking a certain way can vastly improve my quality of life.  Pshaw!  Cue the condescendingly tolerant reel that plays whenever I witness hippy-like behavior, courtesy of being raised in the upper midwest.

Either the community brain-washing didn’t take, or I’m a rebel.  I’m presently engaging in all sorts of hippy-like behavior.  I just got back from a mini-vacation in Denver.  Since M accompanied me, I was able to partake of the legal variety of weed while there.  (I decided I don’t need to use it very often, so mini-trips suffice over moving.)  I still feel like it’s having a positive effect on me.  Reverberations from reaching a state where I experienced no anxiety, I presume.

broken cookies

When I got home, my blood pressure meds were waiting in my mailbox.  I have to see my primary care doctor in the next three months, or I’ll run out again.  I suck at noticing symptoms until they bring me to my knees.  Now that I’ve taken a dose, I can already feel the difference.  It feels like someone just let me out from between the heavy mattresses that were crushing me on the sly.

I’m sensitive about my hypertension.  In my case, it seems my blood pressure and anxiety level increase in tandem.  The closer I get to freaking out, the higher my blood pressure rises.  I despise having it checked with the auto-cuff.  It usually starts a loop of ever-increasing numbers, until the medical person groks the pattern, and turns it off.  (I’m embarrassed by this quirk because I strongly suspect I caused it during an experiment I did years ago attempting to train myself to suppress all visual signs of stress/anxiety/depression.)

It backfired, I think.  I waiver between the benefits of masking to prevent stranger danger and the dangers of mistreatment due to not presenting stereotypically around poorly trained medical professionals.  I’ve apprehended a resolution to my difficulties in getting racism-free care at the Sioux Falls VA.  I’ve concluded my best option is to forgive the mistreatment in the past, and move forward without the baggage.  (It seems kind of duh, now, but it took me a while to figure it out.)  😂

bunny suit costume

It turns out; I’m allergic to baggage.  It slows me down, weighs me down, and worst of all hurts me.  (I’m also allergic to pain. 🤫)  My ability to reason when enduring pain is pathetic.  I could work on that, or I could focus on avoiding pain when it’s a choice.  I’m big on narrowing down the root, so I’m going with the latter option.  Fortunately, I don’t have any chronic pain conditions, and borderline-unsafe high pain tolerance (unless it’s above the neck.)  Most of my pain is a result of poor choices.  (Ouch.)(Shaddup, ego.) 🙃

I’m going to schedule an appointment with my primary care doctor at the VA.  When I believed this action impossible, it was due to being buried in painful baggage.  Now that I’ve engaged my Superpower of Forgiveness, I’ve freed myself and can imagine a fabulous 2019:  A year that includes preventative health care, lots of joy, and the Fleetwood Mac concert.  (Okay, the last two are redundant, but who’s counting?)  😂✌🏾💜