Well blog family, the dreaded January detox is officially upon us. To make the jump off even more enjoyable, a cold has snuck in to clog my head. I think it’s the Universe getting its own revenge for all the times I consciously clog my head.
We all have our vices.
Yesterday morning I had the worst caffeine headache ever, complimented with icky cold stuff. Oh, and I was also hungover. New Year’s Eve seems to bring forth that condition. Particularly when you’re running around the Times Square District with your best friend and a pair of Aussie tourists.
I spent most of yesterday in bed. I had big aspirations of getting up and clicking keys. But in the end, sleeping won the debate. I was essentially zonked out all day.
Most of my life is still focussed on helping Peanut adjust. I’ve been back and forth about rescuing her a little friend from a local shelter, but I know it’s still too soon. I think if I get another puppy at this stage Peanut will just be even more confused, and possibly sadder.
I bought her a frozen bone tonight, it’s her favorite goodie since landing in the states. Happy times like this are very useful when managing caffeine withdrawal.
I brought Lily Peanut to my parents’ house this weekend. Needless to say, seeing my little girl imported from Australia running around the yard where I grew up was beyond surreal. I wanted Henry to be there, it made me cry a bit. Continue reading
I’ve been trying not to cry too much about Henry here in blog land, and also in life in general. Both are hard. Because even though I don’t cry to anyone, I still cry in my head. Sometimes what you hear in your head is far more hard to process than anything you could ever articulate.
However, in my lap right now – and by my side a majority hours of the day – is little Lily Peanut who has also been adjusting to one of the most horrible things we will ever endure. I tell her it’s ok a lot. I’ve been reassuring her that nothing every really dies, it just sort of shifts.
I’ve come to realize that in many ways, she’s been the one telling me we’ll be cool. With the move approaching next week, I’m starting to believe her.
The new abode is only ten blocks from Central Park. I cooed about this to my pretty girl earlier as we wandered through the Queens industrial park I take her through every morning before the sun comes up.
Then I brought her back to my big, nearly empty apartment and tossed around a tied up pillowcase. A gesture kindly returned with face licks and a big, beautiful smile that hasn’t glowed quite as bright in weeks.
Nine more sleeps to midtown! New house, next step, book.
That’s right… book… book… book…
So I blogged a few hours ago about boo-hoo life is shit… then a best mate came through to paint smiles on my face.
While I must get off of the island of Queens and back to my beloved Manhattan, I need to say, living down the block from Chris and David has been divine. It’s funny the Universe “just happened” to plant me here while dealing with two events that will definitely be something brought up at 70th birthday parties… which happened to occur within an eight week period down the block from my best friends.
Earlier tonight when I was ranting about how things can always be worse, I guess this ties to that. I can bitch all I want about my dog dying for no reason or another husband walking out. Though realistically, I know my life is far from bad.
Once I get another apartment in midtown, it will be further improved. I think I’m finished saying things can always get worse. I’m starting to prefer, thank goodness for what I’ve got.
Regardless. I have to tell myself, anyways. If I don’t… well… no matter.
Thank you Chris, David, Queens, Cult, Om, Azna and all the rest.
Namaste blog tribe
I hope you are all well around the world. I’ve decided that I think that I’m a hard person. I realized this today, when I sniffled and sobbed all the way to the vet to pick up Henry’s ashes. Alone. In freezing cold weather. Which somehow makes it worse, cold always makes everything worse.
Husband 2 is officially off the scene. I haven’t mentioned much about the details, some things are private even in Internet land. Needless to say, we bid each other an amicable adieu. I’ve realized I’m shit at being married. I’m moody, I get reclusive, I’m stuck in my ways and lots of other things.
It’s officially down to Peanut and I. Last year around this time, I was grieving my first husband and longing for the puppies to arrive. Little did I know that by the time they arrived, my second marriage would be over – and Henry’s body would be in its final weeks of a silent fight with cancer that no one could have saw.
Numb is the best way to describe my present state. I’ve seen some shitty times throughout our bloggy journey. But I’d like to give a special shout out to the suck that is presently having a feed on my fighting life. I’m not someone to sugar coat things. While I understand that at the end of the day, no one can rescue “you” except “you”, and yes, it can always be worse… but bloody hell… I’ve taken a serious beating over the past two months.
My focus stays on apartment. I am going to get Peanut set up someplace where I can visit her during lunch. I’ve considered getting her a friend, but how do you replace a sibling?
I don’t know how I’m fighting right now when I hurt so much. I’ll work it out. I’ve been in Sunnyside for eight weeks. During these eight weeks any certainty I thought was there evaporated. All I have is faith.
That’s just going to have to be enough.