To begin with

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That’s not my cat.

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Coping Strategies

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When I was a kid, my mother was always after me about coping. "You need to learn to cope!" she'd say when I hurt myself or something surprising caused me to cry. My Grade One report card noted that I "had a lot of potential but [cries] too much." Mum was sure that swimming lessons would help me learn to cope so I started as soon as I was tall enough to touch the bottom. I learned to swim but there always seemed to be a shortfall on the coping side. It stuck. I believed I was bad at coping until about five years ago. I almost coped myself to death that year while I managed a miscarriage mostly on my own. After I got home from the hospital and started to get over the shock, I kept thinking about how I had finally learned to cope. When I shared this insight with a colleague, he was SHOCKED. He told me that in fact I was one of the very best copers he knew.  Huh. I started looking at a lot of things and realized he was right. I completely let go of the idea that ...
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Pause

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I am in a hell of a mood. I feel like I must write but I have nothing to say. Well, I do, but nothing I can share here or that I want to preserve. It's just been a peaks and valleys kind of day and I am now feeling extremely miserable. Contrary. Like the most expletivy expletive in all of Expletivetown. And so on. And what not. Today has been good overall. I called my Dad to give him an update about our accommodations, etc, and the next thing I knew they'd offered to come help. Later, my sister brought lunch and followed up with a visit after Dad and P arrived. We hauled a van load of stuff to the apartment and I went back later on my own for a bit. Alone was good. My feet are killing me. My sushi supper was delicious. My beloved is tired from all of the change, etc, but I am doing the heavy lifting and just cannot take one more question or interpretation. And my feet are expletive killing me. I just want to lie in bed (my own bed) and watch Ted Lasso for the fourth (fifth?) ti...
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Oh hello

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I bought a new laptop the other night. My old one was adopted by Dave before I got too attached and I've been trying to run my "real life" off my phone and iPad ever since. That seemed to work well enough but I ignored a lot of email and certain things seemed impossible; like writing anything more than 1000 characters long. Obviously, I haven't been writing either. I always chalked it all up to laziness; maybe that's part of it, but it dawned on me recently that I'm a touch typist and pecking things out on a screen-sized "keyboard" doesn't make any sense. It's fine for social media but it's no good for email or the rest of my "real life" writing and working.  Once I realized there was a genuine problem to solve and getting a laptop wasn't just a "want," I set out to fix it. I looked at my bank account, talked to people I know and trust well enough to help me evaluate what I needed in a machine, and I ran it by Dave...
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