The news of my estranged mother’s breast cancer adds one more variable in the tornado of shrapnel that is my life. Good news on my insurance paperwork is the trade off. Probably getting paid for my month of sick. Can pay Wildcard back for last month’s rent.
Got to figure out the rest of my life. Barring calamity, I have half a century left to work out. And I am listening to my medical professionals. Stop things that are making me sick.
So migrained last night I missed the munch I technically run. I am… Done. Ok with it, actually, shedding it like a wool sweater in the desert. A wool sweater I hand knit, but maybe I deserve to be happy?
I haven’t been happy about some things for a long time, and it shows in my writing. My blog on hiatus, my life waiting “until X happens” and taking care of the latest explosion. So much crisis management.
My body shut me down, hard, because I tested its limits for other people until I literally collapsed.
Kinda done with that.
I deserve to be happy.