Just another day….. or not

The first time I got up this morning I responded to my dog’s bark to go outside and pee. The cat wanted to be fed too, but I didn’t want it to get used to being fed at 7am because I don’t always get up that early. I went back to bed. My nights have been later now that my son is working late and we have to coordinate rides. I really need and love my sleep so I try and let myself sleep as much as I need to. I am telling myself that so I don’t feel indulgent getting up finally at 9:30am. Took my morning thyroid medication. I keep it on my dresser and have a little silver metal tea pot and a blue melmac camp cup to put the water in that I set on the old fashion desk chair next to my bed. Your are supposed to take it a half hour before eating, so I try to take it when I first wake and inevitable go back to sleep.  I works about 75% of the time, other times I forget and just down it with my coffee.  I never found out if a cup of coffee with cream and sugar is considered food.  I always make extra coffee, so I only end up making it every other day. I made a pot yesterday, so into the cup and into the microwave it went. The sun was already up and beating down with the intensity of a sun lamp on the vegetable garden, only the beans, carrots, onions, celery, and most of the tomatoes were in the shade still. I had to get it watered, no putting it off, or I would find wilted and sad plants later. As I move through the garden and water, I can see I planted the three sisters pattern too close because soon you won’t be able to see the ground. They are already running into each other,the Zuchinni bumping into the corn here, the yellow squash enveloping the marigolds over there. These were in the full sun and I had to water them under their leaves and stalks. Corn with peas and beans winding up them, squash spreading out inbetween. I have to harvest some lettuce and chard soon. I had to move my darling artichoke because it is getting fried.  I love my artichoke.
After watering the garden, I packed up and mailed off another items I sold on Amazon, then threw up a few books that had caught my eye that I am done with. One is on Bankruptcy from Nolo Press. Something I seriously considered, if only to get back at my credit card companies, but decided against. I could be creative enough to get by without doing it, but boy was it tempting if only to say ‘fuck you’ to the robber barrons of our current age.  In this economy is might be a sought after book. I love my little book business even though I make under $300 a year at it so far. I love packing the items up, decorating each book marker I include with stamps and sparkles, walking the block to the post office, stapling the receipt to a copy of the packing slip and piling it neatly in the folder I keep them in.
It is almost 1pm and I am containing myself from waking up my son. The urge to be co-dependent is ever present and he usually wakes up minutes after I think he should be up. I keep finding excuses to wake him or to inadventently wake him.  I should call my friend about a ride home from work tomorrow and the phone is in his room.  I should go for a walk and tell him I am going out.  I will walk to the post office again because the mail had not been put in the boxes yet when I went up to mail the Amazon package and then see if he is up by the time I get back.

I am amazed it works every time. Sure enough, by the time I got back a few mintues later he was up and ready to jump in the shower.  He was none the wiser of my dust storm of worry kicked up by our different timing, but diverted by a walk to the post office.  Visions of him losing his job, my worst fear, vanished as soon as I walked in the door and heard the sound of his voice.  Mother worry is like a chronic condition,no matter how much I know the vast majority of it is unwarrented, it keeps popping up or popping out, like gas. He mostly has it pretty together.  His timing is not mine, but it doesn’t have to be as long as it works for him.  Growing up in a home with alcoholics shaped me to be constantly vigilant.  The compulsion to act on it lessens with time, but the urge still arises.  I am looking for the past to repeat itself and it is a challenge to get my head out of the ass of my past and see what it actually going on in front of me.  Not what I fear, or hope, but what is.
I am doing something to further my writing goals and dreams.  I am writing on my Blog, graduating from my personal journal.  Looking at all those fears that I will have nothing important or interesting to say or I will not say it in an interesting or compelling way.  I will come off pretentious or contrived or just plain lame.  I won’t be funny and I should be funny!  The list goes on and on.  I am using the extra time I have away from home to go to the library and write.  I dropped Zack off at work, on time.  Instead of going into Cost Plus to wander around looking at things I don’t need, or to the Goodwill on the pretense of looking for a cheap set of gardening tools, or Home Depot for the same reason, I drove myself here.  I do miss hanging out at home with this new schedule but looking for the opportunity in it.  At home it is too easy to get distracted.  I am very creative at that and it is time to channel that creativity into something new.

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