Couched

I grew weary of this life

And wary of my death.

Since this I simply can't abide,

I opt for sleeper sofa suicide.

Sleeper sofa suicide

Just lay my body down.

Sleeper sofa suicide

I end up under ground.

I’d been to the purpose shop,

But could not find my size.

So I lay myself down this mornin'

For some sleeper sofa suicide.

Sleeper sofa suicide

Just lay your body down.

Sleeper sofa suicide

I end up under ground.

Sleeper sofa suicide

Just lay your body down.

Sleeper sofa suicide

I end up under ground.

Laters Dude.

Enough already

I have started writing this post a half dozen times over the past couple of weeks. I get a sentence or two down and walk away. Below I offer a couple of the efforts.

June 18:
Write your own. Yep! I offer some thoughts below, you can fill in the details or not.

Empathy the enemy.

Check out the shocking video.

Where did all the leaders go?

June 23:
Does the Geek Squad only hire those who look the part too? Could a cute guy sue for discrimination?

The nurse told me today my lungs were trashy.

June 24:
The past couple of days the sadness moved in, seeping under the doors and saturating the air I breathe. The moroseness wraps around me threatening to smother me.


Today
I called Doc's office around 4 yesterday and left word on the nurse's line that the home health nurse noted crackles in my left lung and, oh yes, I think I need my med for depression adjusted. I asked if I could be worked in today if he wants to see me, or does he want to wait until my August appointment. 

  Pogo makes lemonade.


 Miss you Dude. Laters.

Void

I do not seem to fit anywhere anymore. I am not pointing the finger of blame because the main finger should indicate I am the most to blame.

Later. Dude.

Another goodbye

I met him in pulmonary rehab: one man with a great sense of humor and a bunch of women. We teased him about his harem.

I would pull into the parking lot of the hospital and know he beat me to class because his shiny red pickup sat in the handicap space. Sometimes I would overtake him before he got to the classroom; his lungs refused to allow him to move quickly.

As the rehab sessions progressed, so did he. No one tried any harder than he did. With his harem rooting him on, he worked on upper body strength at first. Gradually he improved enough to do some treadmill. 

When the cardio rehab folks decided on a weight loss challenge, several of us joined in. He worked on losing weight, too.

He was proud of his family and loved Texas Tech. Those who did not know him, missed someone special.

Rest in peace Mitch.

Later, Dude.

I wonder

Chester A. Arthur vampire hunter. Not the same verve as Abe, huh? More than 100 years after his death, he earns a spot in current culture. I wonder if the president would laugh or shake his head in dismay.

I wonder if thousands of years from now someone will stumble upon this blog and use it as an artifact in the study of mankind in the 21st century.

I wonder why someone would want to remake really bad movies. Has Hollywood lost its imagination? Have all the ideas been used?

I wonder if cherries and pistachios make the perfect snack?

I wonder if cockroaches adapted to their environment over the milleniums or if they were built that way.

I wonder why people who live in your town and go hungry are less important than people who starve in another country.

I wonder why a church will spend an enormous amount of money making their building over when the money could feed hungry children for years. No child asks to be born into a home with no food, shelter, clothing or love. "Yeah, give me parents who want a baby as an accessory or as another $20 a month in food stamps. I will raise myself, see what you get then."

If money equals power, I wonder what love equals?

If you do not accept either choice, what then?

If you do not like the way your life flows, make changes.

I miss you, Dude.

Laters.

Go get it!

Momo fetches his carrot in a game he taught me how to play.

Later, Dude.

Update

Why do I shut down when adversity strikes? I do not think dealing with a situation should present such a.drastic reaction. I am sure sleep resolves nothing but if I am sleeping, I do not have to face the situation and make a decision or take action.

My car decided to spring a leak in the fuel line Sunday. I called the mechanic yesterday. He says do not drive the car. I drove it a couple of times before calling the mechanic. So now I have to call a tow company to have the car taken in. The mechanic said he has been busy, so I will be without a car for a few more days.

Later, Dude.

Real life

Real life makes writing a blog post daily hard. Unless you make up events, readers get pretty tired of reading about scooping the cat box and washing dishes. Writers get pretty tired of that as well. For us sickies, writing about the ever present doctor's appointment or test grows wearisome.

On days such as this, Pogo and Momo illustrate what we all do best. Later, Dude.

Doctor, doctor

The weight of sadness built so slowly at first I did not notice. A need for transplant here; loss of a home there.

At first I could offer an ear and sympathy without a thought. Gradually listening took over my life. From the time I got up until the time I went to bed I immersed myself in the stories. Lost in the details of other people's heartaches, I did not notice the load grow heavier and heavier until the day I realized one more bit of grief would crush me.

Slowly now I begin to salve the wounds. I hope for a short convalescence.

Missing you, Dude.

R-r-r-r-u-u-u-u-m--m-m-m-m-m

Hooray!! My energy and motivation returned at the same time. When you basically do nothing for a couple of weeks, the chores stack up at a frightening rate. I started with the cosmetic tasks: trash, dishes and bathroom. The stack of papers on my desk stands next in line. Then changing the bed linens and a trip to the cat food store and dollar store looms.

Well, the day did not line up according to the plan. I got all the garbage emptied. My mower guy did the yard. I did get those papers either filed or shredded. The end.

Salmon for supper: super!!

Later, Dude.