There’s a little voice in my head that’s been saying “let me get off of this ride…now.” It’s been a wild one the last few months. I had to sit down and decide to make a list and only do “one” thing at a time. I’m still overloaded on my list and I’ve done half of one thing and then half of another. My finishing capacity has been nil.
When I am reading in bed, I can forget that my stomach hurts or that I have this incipient need to pray to the toilet god. It takes my mind off of sickness, stress, or money troubles. I think I tend to “borrow trouble,” another saying from my parents, because I can see my future self struggling if certain things don’t happen. It’s a blessing and a curse to see so far into the future. This week when I wasn’t able to eat anything or drink anything but water, it wasn’t a good talent to have.
So I escape in reading.
I have wanted to go to Liberty con since I first heard about it. I have a lot of online friends who go there every year. I had promised myself that when I had enough money saved that I would show up and actually meet the people I enjoyed talking to on social media sites. Just when I think I am well enough and flush enough in the pocketbook to go, I get sick. I am reminded that I just have to walk by someone who has a virus and I can pick it up and take it home with me.
I am learning to live in the present. I am learning to feel the keys click against my fingers and my toes sink into the carpet. I listen to the noise of the TV in the living room and feel the little bursts of sun through the window. The coffee slides down my throat after touching my taste buds. I can tell how sick I am by how well I can taste.
I am still here. I am still here.
The birds know I am still here. They sing to me each morning. The ravens caw in the distance. The doves coo in the courtyard and my dog sits in my lap.