insert title here

      Comments Off on insert title here

Gif used in post.

Gods above I am so tired.

I have a half-written post that I want to share here on Monday the 27th (I’ve set myself a “posting schedule” here of every other Monday, and I was GOING to post Myth Mondays this week buuuuut, yeah, no) and hopefully that will happen but right now I just need to, you know. Blog.

Noodle incoherently about my life. Rant. Vent? Talk, but with text.

I’m so tired, guys.

It’s only the 16th of January, 2020. Barely two weeks into the new year and I’m ready to nap for most of it.

It’s mostly emotional drainage. It’s been an exciting and good but also bad two weeks, and my little heart is fluttering like a hummingbird having a seizure.

  • The good: I have a new job!
  • The bad: it requires moving away from my husband.
  • The good: I’ll be closer to my mom! As in, living in her house.
  • The bad: I’m supposed to go up at the end of the month, but circumstances (read: bad timing) have conspired to make her in need of my help now.
  • The good: living with mom will help me achieve my writing goals this year as well as personal goals of downsizing my things and trying to live minimally.
  • The bad: I’m really not ready to live minimally and when I first go up I have to take the bare minimum of stuff because mom doesn’t have much space for me yet. (She’s still renovating her new house.)

On it goes! This kind of emotional whiplash would be exhausting at any time, but of course it’s on top of my having a cold for almost the entire new year so far and not getting enough sleep because of it.

retro vade me, bad timing

And what about this bad timing I mention? Bad timing is the creature that has stalked our little family for as long as memory stretches back — my memory, at least — and it continues to plague our days. I wanted to leave it behind in 2019 but I guess it needs more than willpower to banish it; perhaps a knife to the heart and cremation, with ashes scattered at crossroads.

(I’m reading a Dracula-inspired book right now; it’s really good, and it’s seeping into my metaphors. It’s We Shall Not Sleep by M.R. Graham. Check it out.)

I swear, my mom is cursed by bad timing, and by extension, I am too.

While waiting for the call that I’d gotten the job (which I was expecting, but couldn’t make any real solid plans until I knew for sure), she had an episode of scary symptoms that could have been a heart attack, could have been a mini-stroke, could have been really bad food poisoning…and we weren’t sure what it was.

(We’re still not sure. Aren’t bodies grand?)

I spent my day off work that week consumed by anxiety, talking to her on the phone off and on as she got help from her community and tried to get back to normal.

It was looking like I might need to go up there sooner rather than later and then come back down once she was well, which would have me missing shifts at my clinic and in general just, you know, gum up the works of our plans.

Thankfully, this did not happen — she got back to normal within a few days, and then got much better, even, and I was able to stay down here.

Good thing, as if I’d gone up I’d still be stuck there because of the current weather.

Katje “Temptress” van Loon

Things were looking up! I got the call on Tuesday that I’d been offered the job, and I had a lengthy conversation with mom about it. I told her she had to stay well for at least two weeks, because that was when I’d be up.

I may as well have tied raw meat to myself and run into the big cat exhibit at a local zoo shouting “LOOK AT ME, I’M A TARGET”. Just change my middle name to Temptress of Fate.

My Wednesday wake-up call was mom, informing me that she’d slipped and fallen in the snow and was being taken to the hospital at that moment for an xray of what was probably a broken ankle.

Do you see what I mean about us being cursed by bad timing? [Anthony Hopkins voice] Stalked by a creature beyond the grave, who knows only a thirst, a terrible hunger for the very essence that makes our lives run smoothly?

It’s definitely a fracture (a Danis-Weber B). Mom goes in for another xray on Sunday, and apparently then we’ll know for sure if she’ll need surgery or not. If she does, well…I will probably have to go up there sooner than planned. Which….

Look, I’m a person who keeps my word. I gave my word to my current job I would work all my January shifts if I got this new job.

I’ve also given my word to take care of my mom. (Not explicitly; it’s just…that oath is part of my very being.)

It will be impossible to do both, short of a Star Trek transporter being invented and available for public use tomorrow.

the terribleness of waiting

So right now, I am back to waiting anxiously in the wings and trying to prepare for every inevitability before then.

Before Sunday, I must:

  • make a list of all the essentials I’ll need for my first month, month and a half with Mom
    • start packing those essentials
  • clean out my car (no small feat considering it is surrounded by drifts of snow three feet deep — I may be exaggerating, or it may actually be that bad by tomorrow)
  • clean the common areas of the house enough so that Mr. Katje, the husbeast, will survive my absence if it is suddenly required sooner rather than later
  • call and reschedule my MRI appointment in February because I very much doubt I’ll be able to make it, regardless when I head up to Mom’s town
  • inform work of this new development
  • get more than one good night’s sleep (this might be the hardest to accomplish)

Man. I am so tired.

I’m so tired I don’t know how to end this post. So I’m going to just say bye for now, and try to get something on this list accomplished tonight.

Loonily yours,