Same song

I forgot to connect the o2 to my CPAP last night. As a consequence, when I awakened this morning I felt like crap. The SOB continues.

Yesterday Connie and I went to the toy store, the shoe store, a clothing store and the grocery store. Between her arthritis and my PH or whatever, we both felt like we had been run over. A couple of times I felt woozy and immediately sat down. I am so tired of this.

I have an appointment with my counselor today. Tomorrow Tanya comes to start cleaning my apartment and Thursday I have a follow-up appointment with my heart doc.

I miss you, dude.

Later.

Rescue

Blessings come in all sizes and shapes. The best gifts arrive unexpectedly. The past few days, a couple of women I have known for a number of years came forward with offers of help. I am so grateful because now my environment becomes a positive. Thanks ladies, I hope I can return the favor.

Sometimes I wonder how I can misunderstand others like I do. Time wasted. Assertiveness or lack thereof causes me much grief. I often go with the flow because I do not like to make waves. I am an introvert. I need to learn to speak up more. After 61 years, how many opportunities have I lost? How many potential fast friends?

* * *

I miss you, dude.

Later.

Scraps

Pogo squats at the foot of the refrigerator eyeing the top. He lets out a couple of succinct meows and umph he lands close enough to the top for his front paws to take purchase where the freezer door meets the 'fridge. He pulls himself on up. A couple of half cabinets above the refrigerator contain nothing. I leave one of the doors open so the boys can have a hidey-hole.

The refrigerator sits to the right of the sink. Satchmo, who carries extra baggage, cannot scale the refrigerator like Pogo does. He leaps to the sink, then to the top.

* * *

Alex took this photo the day we ate at Jorge's. Boopie and I became a part of his photo-a-day project. Thanks for letting me share, Alex.

* * *

What goes round, comes round. I see that in action daily. Something to ponder.

* * *

Today I am not so much sad as numb. I miss you dude.

Later.

Raindrops falling from my eyes

I got my feelings hurt tonight. Someone ignored me, though maybe not intentionally.

The snub (at least in my mind) sent me spiraling into a blue funk. Self-doubt and sadness clung to me like a crying cranky 3-year-old.

I shed tears for you. Or perhaps I cried for myself. I need the comfort you offered me. I wish I could explain to others just how or what. But I cannot even make sense of it myself.

I find myself following the path you took. Have I shut myself off so well no one will approach me? I am sure some view me as a misanthropic Miss Havisham. Normal people don't act like this. I may frighten some. I do not mean to. I am sad, that is all.

Sometime later, dude.

Not there

I make changes to my apartment in my mind. Move this here. Clean out the dresser. Move the computer to the bedroom. I wish these actions would transfer to my body. Some of the tasks I can accomplish myself, others need a hand from someone. I need to get off my duff before the desire dries up. Hopefully my outlook brightens along with the maneuvers.

* * *

Seems like my writing either flows or refuses to budge. Today it is desiccated.

* * *

Miss you dude as do so many others.

Later.

Purrr-fect life

Life with a cat or cats presents pleasures and punishment. The symbiotic relationship benefits felines and female.

Pogo works hard at his job of alarm clock. Today, for instance, he sat on my CPAP, shutting it off. He favors this technique particularly. Connie thinks the CPAP shutoff falls under accident. I know differently. Run across the body is another tool he uses.

Pogo drools. Not all the time, just when he reaches the nirvana of lying close to me and I pet him. You almost can see his eyes rolling back in his head. Just the closeness turns on the tap. Somehow the purr and slobber functions were fused. Interesting combination.

Satchmo catches bugs -- live ones or those that have not received proper burial. Occasionally he scampers across the floor perfecting his moves. He patrols the apartment looking for interlopers. Satchy Chan, ready with razor-like claws and teeth of steel.

Nothing awakens you like putting a bare foot into a pile of cold upchuck. So you hop on one leg in the dark to the bathroom, praying the whole time you do not find another pile along the way. Both boys blaze the trail for you, pausing every now and then to demand their breakfast. Now you worry about falling over them.  Yep, wide awake now.

In Shrek, Puss in Boots transforms himself from a dashing hero to a waif so he can get his way. The two faces of a cat. Rather like the Poor Pitiful Pearl doll of my childhood.

* * *

Today I get to visit with the youngin's and Boopie.  Alex picked Jorge's. Yummm, enchiladas with sour cream sauce. Fattening as all get out, but oh so good. Not too many more lunches with Brittani. She will head to San Marcos before long. I will miss her.

* * *

Why does a thought persist? The birdcage door opens, fly away, for pete's sake.

* * *

Time will not slow or stop. I miss you, Dude.

Later.

Happy trails

Empathy has a way of getting me into trouble. The trait forges a link between me and others, but also causes great pain.

Like a pack mule heading into a canyon on a steep, narrow, winding path, the possibility of falling hovers in the air like vultures waiting for carrion. The heavier the burden, the more treacherous the journey. Danger lines the pathway. Varmints of all ilk hide, waiting to startle. Some burrow in crevices preparing to throw down stumbling blocks. Others living to inject their brand of venom into the unwary.

The load shifts, chafing. With each weary step, the destination lies farther and farther away. Barbs strike the psyche, chipping away at the remaining reserves. The heavy load taking its toll precipitates a race, with life the prize. Is the canyon floor around the next bend or will the load finally break the back of the bearer?

* * *

I care, Dude.

Later.