It's my life

Today begins the first of what I hope will be many days of helping V at Catholic Family Service. I need a dose of the real world. Tyler Street Resource Center, where CFS resides, houses all the agencies that help the homeless. I drive by there occasionally and see men hanging around outside the building.

For me, this experience will not be easy. Fortunately, once I get past the front door, and up to CFS, my work will involve paper and other things I am familiar with. So I guess this experience amounts to a very small dose of reality. Baby steps, baby steps.

* * *

Tomorrow I see my doc. We may decide, since the blackouts fall on me only sporadically, to wait for the next one. Or we may opt for further testing. He always splains things to me and lets me be a part of the decision. He knows I have done my research and he knows I understand when he tells me what he thinks. We have fun. As doctors go, he is at the zenith. Did I mention he has the looks of a movie star, the kindness of Mother Teresa, and the accent of Ricky Ricardo, sort of, and eyes you fall into?

* * *

Pogo thinks blog time equals his time. He rubs his chin on the monitor. He scrunches up as tiny as he can between the keyboard and the monitor. He sits like Budda next to the mouse. He stretches from the desk to my lap, fairly oozing nonchalance. Then he tries to lick my fingers while I type. Small subtle signs.

* * *

I am a procrastinator, though not as bad as in the past. In college, I served as prop mistress for the drama department's spring musical. My job entailed finding props for the show and then making sure they were placed where they were supposed to be every night of the run. The day before the opening, I lacked a cake box, one of the critical props. All I had to do was go to a large city nearby and ask for one. Because I had procrastinated, the pressure got to me. I came unglued. Stressed out. Connie bailed me out. I did learn a lesson though. I may put off chores or whatever for awhile, but I never let it hit critical mass anymore.

* * *

I cannot say I miss you any less. Such a large mark in such a short time.

Later.