So, um, it’s February. I woke up with a backache two weeks ago and promptly used it as an excuse to do basically nothing. It’s still sore, but improved. What started out feeling like labor pains is now just a dull ache. Sometimes I don’t even notice, other times not so much. Nothing like a few aches and pains to make me feel every day of my 39 years.
But I’ve decided I can’t carry on this way. My back is dead to me–time to move on. (It’s really not that bad.)
I still have to put some finishing touches on The Rules (like, write them). Hopefully that will be up tomorrow and this week I will begin this little experiment. Thank you for the contributions and suggestions. (That is a sincere statement to those who actually contributed and a little bit of sarcasm to the rest of you slackers.) I will need to double check everyone’s address. I’ll be sending out an e-mail to the account you use to make comments, so keep an eye out for that in the next couple days. And it’s not too late to join in if anyone else is interested.
I had a mental list of things to talk about, but I’m currently unable to locate it.
I could tell you about my mini-breakdown over my dad’s announcement that he’s moving. I guess I didn’t really expect them to live in our old house forever, but it was still upsetting. I’m pretending to be over it, though, since a) it’s not like I can do anything about it anyway and 2) it’s not like I can do anything about it anyway. Have I ever told you how sentimentally (and irrationally) I get attached to things? No?
It didn’t help that the day before my dad’s big announcement an acquaintance (the mother of one of my daughter’s friends) lost her mother. There were things already stirred and stewing, and my dad’s call kind of made it all bubble over. I guess some things you just never get over.
On a related note, I’ve discovered that even the deepest empathy does not give you the words to comfort someone in the midst of sorrow. While there are definitely wrong things to say, I’m not convinced that there is any right thing to say.
Man, I hadn’t intended to be such a bummer.
On a lighter note…
Me, to whichever child was eating the Pringles: Put the lid back on so they don’t get old.
Mr T: If only you could do that with people.