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walking

Writing helps clear out my head. Putting my thoughts on paper straightens things out, leaves more room for more organized thoughts.

Walking around the block induces a lot of thinking. I haven't been walking as much as I should, so my thinking is very scattered, random, darting here and there.

I need to write more and walk more.

I'm thinking we need to consider more volunteering as a family. How I'm going to do this isn't clear. Right now I'm hit with exhaustion just thinking about getting active for a strong belief. Depression? Bad habits? Not enough sleep? All of the above?

I'm kind of down today. Aunt Mary and Uncle John are here. I'm very glad to see them. Why am I down? I don't think it has anything to do with them. Perhaps more working out is needed. No, I KNOW more working out is needed.

I wish to high heaven I could go to bed and go to sleep asap. It's so easy to sleep in the recliner. I blink and it's 45 minutes later. Why can't I do that in bed?

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hey

Why do I fight going to bed so much? Why can't I just get a regular bedtime going? It would certainly be so much better for me in so many different ways.

So the balls of my feet burn regularly on an irregular basis. I thought it was from sharing the shower with Ed. He has a sort of continuous athlete's foot problem. My feet have burned like this for years. For a couple years, three or four perhaps, I have had spasms in my feet and shins. Usually at night, and often strong enough to wake me up. Charley-horses, awful things. Sometimes they're bad enough that my shins ache the next day.

Is it dehydration? Lack of exercise? Lack of stretching? Ed noticed I can sleep easier in recliners, so he built us a frame years ago for the bed that mimics a recliner. I notice the spasming happening after he built this. Is it possible my legs are elevated incorrectly? My forearms have also had some problems when in bed. It feels like a loss of circulation, numbness and ants crawling around. Usually my left arm at the start, which I thought was because I was snuggled up against Ed and I was cutting off circulation that way. Then my right arm started. I find my self semi-demi awake in the middle of the night flexing my hands and arms. Did I have numbness? I don't know, I was asleep. Is it just habit? Who knows?

Now I'm wondering if this is all part of a disturbing neuropathy instigated by the diabetes. Hands, feet, legs, arms. Crawling toward my torso in a months-long journey? or just coincidence?

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here again

I need to start writing again. My thoughts get crumpled and twirled and don't go anywhere. I write them down, they get straightened out, life goes more smoothly.

So. I'm 59 years old now. I'm wearing bifocals since my eyes are now officially too dry to wear contacts. I went back to school and got an AFA in photography. Boy, I'd like to take those classes again, I learned so much and it was so much fun. Next year, when I'm 60, I can take classes without paying tuition. Looking forward to it.

I'm now working at Picture People at Alderwood Mall, with an interesting mix of boredom, lack of self-confidence and laughter. I do love what I do, when I can get over the feeling that I can't do it. I suck at taking pictures of babies. I need to study Heather's photos, she does a damn good job.

Rose is home from her first year at WWU. She gained 30 pounds. She has an apartment for next year, which will hopefully help loads. She said she pretty much ate pizza every night because the dining hall sucked so bad at the food bit. She came home for visits craving vegetables, which makes me feel good that we raised her right.

Sam is finishing his first year at Shorecrest. Grades are kind of iffy. Hopefully experience will help for next year. Hopefully I remember to sit at the table with him to keep him focused on getting it done, instead of watching videos or playing games on his phone til he gets caught.

Nuff said for now.

Goodness

It's been almost a year since I wrote in this blog. I need to keep this up. It helps to keep my thoughts clear, and it's cool to read things from a few years ago.

So. Today we went to church, the kids and I did anyway. Rose was a communion minister and Sam and I sat in the pews. There were two small children with their parents in the pew behinds us, to my right. They whispered and giggled and played, but managed to keep it quiet until the mom was gone to communion. Then it got louder and louder and the dad kept saying shh shh but it sure wasn't doing any good. After mass ended and we were all leaving our pews I tapped him on the shoulder. He turned to face me and I said, "When my kids were this little, I sat between them so they wouldn't play together." Both the parents smiled. I just hope he took the (broad) hint.

Ed finished building a reclining frame for our mattress. He'd noticed for months that I didn't snore or stop breathing if I was asleep in the recliner. He found a DIY video on youtube with measurements and put it together with a great deal of hard work, my sweet sweaty husband. I gave it a try, it was wonderful. All of us climbed on it, it felt great! Ed and I changed the sheets, I vacuumed up the sawdust, got all the laundry put up.

I stayed up too late reading, Ed took a quick rinse because of all the sweat. We got to bed about 1245. I had volcanic heartburn. My lower back wasn't supported, no matter where I slid. I got up to get one of the lower back pillows from the front room. I tried to keep my mask on, it kept whistling, so I finally ripped it off. I kept waking up with an extremely dry mouth. Needless to say, an unpleasant night. Ed and I talked and agreed we should sleep on it for a week before we make any changes. I told him it's just like sleeping in any new bed, takes time to get used to it.

I hate my contacts. I had to go to Target, as our new sucky health insurance wouldn't accept Highland Vision. What a nightmare. I might blog about that another time, but I have a different brand of contacts and they're lousy. My near vision is blurry most of the time. The middle and long distance vision is marginal. I just need to decide if it's worth it to go make a stink and see if I can get my old brand back. Supposedly these aren't returnable once the box is open. Sigh. Ten more months of this, or at least try to get my old contacts back? We'll see.

A pleasant Saturday

Ed and Sam got up early this morning to go on a Boy Scout biking and overnight camping trip. I got goodbye smooches at about 745 this morning. I lollygagged in bed for a bit, but got up when my alarm went off at 830. Rose and I needed to get to church for Holy Week rehearsal. Had breakfast, got to church on. There wasn't a chalice minister rehearsal, but Rose had a book. I enjoyed reading portions of the gospel for Palm Sunday. I'm familiar with all the readings, I've been a Catholic all my life, so it's not exactly reading it cold. It's powerful, to read these familiar words from the ambo, the microphone making my voice more emphatic and present.

We got home. Saw a garage sale sign a block from our house. I insisted we drive home and walk back. Rose grumbled, but went along with the idea. It was more of an estate sale, with the house kind of scabby looking on the outside but surprisingly gracious and comfortable on the inside: beautiful wood flooring, simple open kitchen, lovely large family room. Rose spotted a stereo in the garage--it's funny, neither my stereo nor my giant boom-box CD player/tape deck/radio work right now (the radio works on the boom box, not anything else), but I wouldn't have seen that stereo and thought, hmm, we could use it. The stereo had everything except a turntable, Rose and I tested the cd player and the radio before we bought it. Cost $10, nice. I might leave it for Ed to put together, but there's a part of me that wants to present him with a fait accompli'.

We got the stereo home. I drove Rose to Third Place Books to meet with some friends for D&D, drove myself home to get some lunch and get some things accomplished. Well, I had lunch (mini chicken tacos, apple slices, and some leftover chocolate pudding, mmmm) and I accomplished a wonderful nap. Rose woke me with a call that the game was over. I headed down there and we spent some time looking at books and sharing one of the comfy leather chairs, reading and leaning on each other. Sigh.

I treated us to dinner: chicken ramen (home-made, real stuff) and some house fried rice. MMMmmmmm! We read as we shared the dinner. A band started playing swing music at 730, what wonderful music to eat and read by. I wished Ed was there so we could dance....

Finally pried ourselves away at 8 pm. Drove home, walked around the block four times (what a lovely night, too, royal blue sky, faint diamond flecks of stars showing through shredded cotton clouds), sat in the reclining love seat to listen to Monsters and Men as we read some more. It's 1130 right now, Rose is almost done with the book (a 600 pager she picked up at 4 pm, third in a series she's read the first two of) and I'm considering a couple games of solitaire online before I go to bed. Such a peaceful day.

It's Halloween.

We've not exactly been in the Halloween spirit this year. Ed and Sam carved their pumpkins Sunday. I didn't carve mine until yesterday. Rose still hasn't carved hers. We put up minimal decorations yesterday: two sets of lights, one a string of lit candy corn and one just orange. Also a home-made skeleton in the window, and a small dangly hooded skull face under the porch light. I bought Halloween candy yesterday. Get the picture?

I am really getting concerned about the lack of sleep. I feel as though I'm losing more and more mental functions. There are times when I forget where the letters are on the keyboard. I have to stop and look. I fell asleep last week in the dentist chair twice. Once while the dentist was talking to me. I am forgetting what I'm going to get as I'm on the way to get it. This morning at least I was able to go through a process of remembering. I have an appointment next week to talk to a doctor about a sleep appliance that will slowly bring my jaw forward to help open my breathing passage. The sooner the better. At the very least I need to be much more proactive about getting to bed on time. Eight hours of restless sleep is better than six. If I could only get Ed to come to bed with me.

It would also help if my back would cooperate, ie stop hurting. It would especially help if my left hip didn't feel as if it was on fire, I have a big knot perched right on the hip bone. I also have a muscle sprain of some sort on the right shoulder. Since I prefer to sleep on my side I am stuck sleeping on my back. Which doesn't work for me. The last couple of days my eyes have burned all day as if they've been open all night. I can't nap today though. It's payday and I get to buy groceries! Hooray! And I also have to take pictures for the yearbook of the costumes at Briarcrest. I got a half cup of caffeinated coffee and poured water in to dilute it a bit, then nuked it. It's sort of working. We'll see how it is once I get off my butt and get to school.

It's odd

I have a journal entry that has attracted perhaps 8 or 9 foreign language spams. I don't know why this particular entry as attracted so much attention of such a diverse sort, but I wish it would stop.

Went to a baby shower today in a lovely neighborhood looking over the sound. It was in a house that was nice from the outside and impressive on the inside. Recently remodeled, hardwood floors, white paint everywhere, skylights, finished daylight basement, huge computer terminals and huger flat screen tv, etc. I managed to be a good guest, mingling with people I didn't know, being quiet and not sharing everything on my mind, not being manic with personal details, having pleasant quiet conversations. I sort of wish I could have sat quietly in a corner and watched everyone, but good guesthood must happen regardless of personal feelings. Having the only camera helped, I could sort of hide behind it.

I'm starting my second week of subbing for an open position at Shorecrest. I love it, I'm helping with geometry classes and a remedial math class. My biggest concern is keeping up with the geometry. I need to do my studying the night before so I can help the kids the next day with the stuff I just re-learned. I'm mostly hoping I might get the position anyway.

is it possible?

I am both depressed and in turmoil, mentally. I am desperate and frustrated. I am in a funk. We need me to get a job. We are broke. I would like a job in the school district. I would prefer to work with children in an educational capacity. I have contemplated taking a job as a part-time custodian at the local Catholic school. Yet physically that doesn't seem possible. Foot surgery last summer, aching back this year. Just walking around doing errands makes my legs and feet hurt. Hurt. I could blame it on laziness and sluggishness this summer. That's enough to make me more depressed: that I didn't follow up on plans to work out this summer in the mornings and let the kids sleep in late. My back hurts, that is spasms if I don't have a bare minimal amount of exercise during the day. It's hard to get past the inertia and just get my act in gear. Getting even less sleep than usual is not helping. Ed just sewed more velcro on my chin strap. It seemed to work when I went to bed, but I woke up in pain, had to peel the strap off my chin, and it's been hurting all day.

I'm just really really bummed.
Most of my adult life I have been feeding my mouth. I listened to what my mouth wanted and fed it, as opposed to eating when I was hungry and stopping when I was full, the way most people do. That is, listening to their stomach. I got bored, or I got on the computer, or I opened a book, and I'd start thinking: what sounds good right now? What would I like in my mouth right now? Instead of paying attention to my stomach, which was probably telling me that it was just fine and didn't need anything, thank you.

Eating is and was a source of comfort. Make your mouth happy and your stomach happy, eat something yummy! Since I've gotten diabetic, the things that usually provided the most comfort (sweets) now make for unhappy indigestion and diarrheatic things happen. Slowly, slowly I have started to connect the communication lines with my hunger, and not my appetite. If I start thinking 'what would taste good right now' I catch myself and ask 'am I hungry or is it something else'. Not in so many words of course. Mentally checking the appetite/comfort/fullness is usually enough, and I'm usually fine.

It's not complete. I still eat for comfort, especially when I'm depressed. Chocolate. Cookies. I yearn for chips sometimes.

Being broke most of the time means if I want something I will need to make it myself.

eating

Most of my adult life I have been feeding my mouth. I listened to what my mouth wanted and fed it, as opposed to eating when I was hungry and stopping when I was full, the way most people do. That is, listening to their stomach. I got bored, or I got on the computer, or I opened a book, and I'd start thinking: what sounds good right now? What would I like in my mouth right now? Instead of paying attention to my stomach, which was probably telling me that it was just fine and didn't need anything, thank you.

Eating is and was a source of comfort. Make your mouth happy and your stomach happy, eat something yummy! Since I've gotten diabetic, the things that usually provided the most comfort (sweets) now make for unhappy indigestion and diarrhea things happen. Slowly, slowly I have started to connect the communication lines with my hunger, and not my appetite. If I start thinking 'what would taste good right now' I catch myself and ask 'am I hungry or is it something else'. Not in so many words of course. Mentally checking the appetite/comfort/fullness is usually enough, and I'm usually fine.

It's not complete. I still eat for comfort, especially when I'm depressed. Chocolate. Cookies. I yearn for chips sometimes.

Being broke most of the time means if I want something I will need to make it myself.

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