I used to call each month of tater tots posts “part 1, part 2, and so on” but I have decided going forward that I would like them to be called episodes.
That way I can say, “on this episode of Screw it, I’m eating tater tots“……
I just love that I feel like my mind is its own reality show.
Exclaiming (or not)
When I’m sad or depressed or don’t feel good, I don’t use exclamation points. In my writing, in texts, in anything.
I feel like exclamation points express way too much happiness, therefore they should only be reserved for when you are really REALLY feeling good. Really REALLY feeling happy. Now, this is only my opinion not at all fact, and in fact, this is my blog, so you can disagree with me in the comments and I will agree with your disagreement but that is how I feel.
I feel like that paragraph was a little Dr. Seussian in nature and that, my friends, deserves an exclamation point!
You can read about my therapy journey a bit here but over the past few years, I wasn’t really in love with therapy.
Yes, I liked my therapist but I didn’t love the actual act of therapy itself. But the biggest thing that bothered me about my therapy of late was that we were doing it in my home.
Because of COVID, we had been doing teletherapy since the beginning of March and because their offices were so small and social distancing was impossible, teletherapy would be continuing until the end of the year and possibly until the following summer.
The whole point of therapy, to begin with, is to get away from your life to talk about your life, right? Over the course of six weeks, it became less and less therapeutic and more of a chore.
So I had to stop for now. I just couldn’t stir up my emotions, my anxiety, my thoughts weekly anymore. Right now I am in survival mode and I don’t need to be reminded of that every week. I just need the pot to sit for a while, not to be stirred. This doesn’t mean I won’t ever return to therapy, it just means it isn’t where I want to be right now.
A week ago, Anna was talking me down off of a migraine anxiety spiral and I said to her that I felt better talking to her than I had ever felt talking to my therapist and that I wasn’t just saying it to make her feel better.
To be clear, I don’t dump my problems on my kids. But this particular day I was just sad about all the days I was missing with my kids because of migraines and corona and just CRAPITY 2020 CRAPITY CRAP CRAP. We both were venting and crying and it was a nice little exchange where I left it a better person than I entered it if that makes sense.
Within this conversation, she said something beautiful to me, “maybe the Universe is making way for something better coming our way, Mom. Maybe this sequence of bad things is happening to make room for good”.
Two days after Anna made that statement, a for sale sign went up in our neighborhood.
Back in February, I mentioned that one of my neighbors didn’t like me because I am a “hugger”. I won’t repeat the story here, so read the post if you haven’t already or re-read it to refresh your memory.
Well, the non-hugger is MOVING.
I hope that all this bad crap wasn’t happening to make room for the non-hugger moving out of the neighborhood because as much as I didn’t really care for her, having her as a neighbor wasn’t the worst thing in the world.
Then I got worried.
OH MY GOD, IS MY BETTER UNIVERSE THING THE HUGGER MOVING?? NOOOOO. I WANTED SOMETHING BETTER.
(said like Veruca Salt)
Not so Joyful
So we lost our 14-year-old fish Lucy back in June and it was such a blow because we just never expected it. I know what you’re thinking. YOU NEVER EXPECTED YOUR FOURTEEN-YEAR-OLD FISH TO DIE? No. We literally didn’t. She was such a presence. You had to live here or be a part of our day-to-day to get it.
Also, we had lost Nibbles the hamster in February and it was just a crappy pet death year, in addition to just being a crappy year.
The week Lucy died we had noticed that Joy, our sweet parakeet, wasn’t acting herself and I was all ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME whilst shaking my fist at the Heavens.
She was sleeping pretty much all day, she went from singing and talking almost all day to being completely silent.
This is all happening while I am going through my horrific migraine cycle/Chicago doctor visit/Lucy’s death.
We made her an appointment at a local vet (not our vet) who specializes in birds after a couple of days of this behavior.
He literally looked at her for a whopping five seconds, says, “73!”
HUH?, I said.
“Your home, it needs to be 73 degrees. Also, she’s too thin and she needs water-soluble vitamins!”
Then he left.
By the way, I want a job where I make $50 bucks a minute to shout out orders to people. Tell me where I can get a job like that.
So I took her home, tried to find her vitamins everywhere locally (they were out of stock) so ordered them on Amazon (also back-ordered, must be lots of sick birds everywhere), and pumped up the thermostat to 73 and waited.
I played videos of her talking, saying her name, singing sweetly.
I cried and cried and said, JOY PLEASE. YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO US. PEOPLE WILL THINK WE ARE MURDERING OUR PETS OVER HERE.
Then one Sunday morning, I woke up to the sound of a bird but thought it was outside. Then I heard Mike talking to someone and thought it was the girls.
Then I heard a familiar voice. IT WAS JOY. SAYING JOY NOISES!
So was it the vitamins? The temperature of the house? The videos? WHO THE HELL KNOWS. All I know is she is alive and well and we are all ecstatic about it.
Our bird Joy, she so lives up to her name.
What I’m watching
No one has ever called me a trendsetter and me finding shows from over ten years ago and beginning them now, is proof. Mike and I just started watching Community a few weeks ago and are loving it. Now, I knew about this show for those who think I live in a cave; I just never watched it. I am NOW since we ARE living in a cave currently.
Also, all those Ken Jeong memes are making sense now.
Ella convinced me to watch Floor is Lava one rainy day and we got hooked and ended up watching it for a solid hour plus. It is mind-numbing television, meaning you don’t have to think but it will hook you and you will find yourself yelling at the contestants.
I know I mentioned Lenox Hill last month but we just loved this show so much and they recently added an additional episode titled Pandemic and it needs to be watched. It is heartbreaking but if you know someone who doesn’t think this virus is real or refuses to wear a mask, I urge you to have them (or yourself) watch this.
I love, LOVE Alexandria Ocasio Cortez but the other women featured in this documentary are so inspiring as well.
I loved Unsolved Mysteries as a teen in the 80’s and it is back! It’s a little different from the original (I miss Robert Stack BUT there is a nod to him in the opener, so don’t skip it!) but it is GOOD. There are only a few episodes in the first season, I really hope there is going to be a second because it is GOOD. Did I mention that?
And this, well this was just a God-send:
7 Ways Minimalism Will Impact My Children (if you are following this lifestyle like I am, this is an amazing read)
What I’m working on
I am looking at this pandemic as a challenge to myself to do something outside of my box, out of my comfort zone. Not take a home staging course, or even finish my bachelor’s degree, but rather do what I do best: write.
In the midst of my migraine cycle and a pandemic, I needed a project so I wouldn’t go crazy. I am so sick of watching the world implode on itself, I needed a distraction, and finally getting down to business and writing the book I said I wanted to write is just the thing.
Over the course of two weeks, I have created a working title, a foreword, and laid out ten chapters. I push myself to write for at least three to four hours each day, kind of like a workday. I have a deadline set for myself for September 26th, my beloved grandmother’s heavenly birthday before I send it to one of my friends who is an editor, so she can critique the shit out of it for me. Afterward, I will have to do lots and lots of rewrites and editing but the plan is to send it to a literary agent by the beginning of 2021.
I want to thank those of you for encouraging me over the years even though I know you must have been frustrated with me for whining about the book I wanted to write without ever trying to write that book.
I am now finally writing that book.
On Father’s Day, my dad was really sick. We thought he potentially had coronavirus (thankfully, he did not) and we were all terribly worried about him. My mom was overwhelmed with worry and fear as well as just exhausted physically and emotionally taking care of him all alone while trying to quarantine from him (doctor’s orders while waiting for results from a pending test). So Mike and I went to their house later that afternoon and dropped off some groceries and supplies in their garage and social distance visited her outside for a little while for a much-needed morale boost.
Afterward, we took a little drive and we stopped at a McDonald’s for a snack. We sat in an adjacent parking lot to have an impromptu picnic where there were seagulls flocking around us.
We fed just a few extra fries to the flock of seagulls (not the band) and they sang so loudly, flew around and called at each other and I tell you, it was a moment.
A moment, we hadn’t had in so long. We laughed loudly about us being “bird people” and how the birds must have known we needed this moment. We gave the birds names and related the birds to people in our real lives.
And that, my friends, was the therapy I desperately needed.
I hope you have that kind of moment today, this week, even this month.