I couldn’t sleep last night. The anxiety was so high the sleeping pill I took did nothing until 4 a.m. I was awoken a few minutes before 9 a.m. when Groot jumped out of bed. My body is trained to wake up when Groot gets up, cause I’ve learned the hard way that if I don’t, she’ll leave me presents on my closet floor. And believe me, no one wants those presents.
Let me just state here, I genuinely thought today was Thursday.
I put on my glasses, cause running on almost 5 hours of sleep, I figured I would probably come back in and go back to bed. I got Groot outside, and immediately my stomach dropped.
Everyone in the neighborhood had their trash can at the curb and all the lids were open, which means they had all been emptied. I was baffled. It was Thursday! Why did no one tell me our trash day had changed? There had been no notification from the city. Plus, no one had their trash out last night, not even the super dependable neighbors directly across the street. So, when did they all put the cans at the curb, and how did they know the trash day had changed?
I pulled out my phone, intending to look up the trash day schedule on the city’s website. And then I saw it.
Our regular trash day.
So, as Groot did her business, I stood there and cried.
I’m clearly doing well at this whole handling life thing.
I’m doing the slightly monotonous work of making inserts for greeting cards. I have all this really pretty cardstock paper that I’m cutting down into correct size.
I’ve also got New Girl on in the background. I realized yesterday that I fell off the show, completely unintentionally, after the second season. And since my memory sucks and it’s been a few years since I last watched it, I started it over from the beginning. The show is quite a bit funnier than I remember it being. One small problem though, since I spent so much time throwing up, my abdominal side muscles hurt super bad every time I start laughing. On the bright side, I still haven’t thrown up since before I made my non-post post yesterday. And I realize that is way too much tmi about my bodily functions. The whole point is, this show is making me laugh so much, but because it really hurts to laugh, my laughs start out normal and then quickly turns to me going, “Ow, ha, ow, ha ow ow ow!”
Tune in tomorrow for another exciting installment of “Malia is either actually getting stuff done or she’s been disassociating for the last 8+ hours.”
P.S. I do have regular dissociative episodes that frequently involve me just staring at a wall for hours on end. I frequently deal with my mental health issues by making jokes about it.
I’ve spent the better part of the last 36 hours unable to keep food down. But, I think I may finally be over the worst, so far I’ve kept down the chicken from a few hours ago. Fingers crossed it stays that way.
Yesterday, I stopped at the post office to get some fun stamps because I’m going to try something called Postcrossing. One of the fun parts of Postcrossing (at least, as I understand it) is fun stamps, so I picked up a set of Scooby Doo stamps and Hot Wheel stamps. I was wearing one of my many Grogu (I still call him Baby Yoda, but I grudgingly acknowledge they did finally name him) masks. The very nice lady working the counter took notice and mentioned that there were Star Wars stamps being released today. She said they would likely go fast. So, at 8 a.m., I marched my butt in and bought these:
I fully expected to see droids like BB-8 and R2-D2, but I was so excited when I saw Chopper. If you’ve not watched Rebels, I highly recommend it. Although, you really need to watch the Clone Wars series first. And yes, they’re both animated shows, but just because something is animated doesn’t mean it doesn’t tell a good story. Plus, if you’ve watched Mandalorian and didn’t know:
-Why the Darksaber is important.
-Who Ahsoka Tano is.
-Who Bo Katan is.
You need to watch Clone Wars and Rebels. There’s just so much story and it’s so well told.
I’ll be spending today watching all the Star Wars I can while I make postcards and greeting cards. I know I can’t make it through the whole saga in one day, so this will likely be a weeklong venture.
The only movie I may skip is Rogue One. I’ve only seen it once, and that was in the theater. It’s a really good movie, but I had a really hard time with it. It gave me a panic attack, and I’ve never had any desire to try watching it again. I can’t explain why it set me off without spoiling the movie, but if you really want to know feel free to ask.
On a completely separate note, I now have all of my meds refilled (I’ve been out of 75% of them for the last few days). So, I should be returning to a better headspace soon. And my blood sugar numbers should start dropping to manageable levels.
I’m going to be very frank with all of you. I’m not in a good headspace currently. Call it a pity party, call it being overwhelmed. I honestly don’t care what you call it. It’s probably all accurate.
Since the news regarding Tom has been made public, I’ve had a lot of people in my life make comments about how we’re being so strong, and how we have such a good attitude about all this. These are all incredibly kind things to say, and I know that they’re said with love. And to be fair, I am actually feeling fairly positive about the outcome of all this. That said…
I don’t think I’m strong. Currently, I’m exhausted, sad, and beat up. I feel like Tom and I are walking around with targets on us that the universe is taking full advantage of. Kind of like that old Far Side cartoon with the deer that had a target on it and another deer says, “Bummer of a birthmark.”
Even though my brain knows that there’s not much reason to be concerned about the surgery, and I know I can’t sway the outcome one way or another by how I feel, I’ve come to realize that I’m scared about it. I’ll be so glad when Tom is out of surgery and awake.
We have a joke in our house that Tom is a Vulcan and I’m a human (think Spock’s parents). He has very little emotion about anything, and it very rarely shows up. Whereas, I’m filled with all the emotions all the time.
I know they won’t officially diagnosed Tom with cancer until they have the kidney out and had a chance to do the lab work on the tumor. I know that as far as cancer goes, we’re not facing nearly as much scary stuff as so many do. Even so, it’s scary. Really scary.
Sorry I’m such a downer today. I promise to be a bit better tomorrow.
Somehow I always forget how much I love to bake until I find myself needing to bake something. I’m not sure why I forget. I blame my brain.
At the moment the smell of heaven is wafting through the house. We’re going to my in-laws later today for Mother’s Day/father-in-law’s birthday. My mother-in-law asked if us kids would bring the sides and I volunteered to bring rolls.
There’s this recipe on Pinterest for copycat Texas Roadhouse rolls. If you’ve never eaten there, you’ve not experienced the delight that is their rolls. This recipe seemed fairly easy, so I figured I’d give it a try.
I just pulled them out of the oven, and while they’d win no awards from Paul Hollywood for consistency, for my first try I’m quite pleased.
I just tried one of the tiny ones and OH MY GLOB!!!!! So nummy! Definitely going to be making this recipe again.
I guess I was more stressed out by this last week than I though I was. I remember waking up this morning, but I had a rough night with my stomach, and wasn’t feeling quite ready to get up.
I went back to sleep. I dreamed that I was back being a pastor’s kid. The church was on fire, and we were trying to get things out of the building. (Clearly this dream has no deeper meanings 😅).
I woke to Tom shaking me awake. At first I thought it was just a few hours later. Turns out it was 5:30 pm. I slept the whole day away. I haven’t done that in a super long time. And now it’s almost 11 pm, and my body is torn. Physically I’m still exhausted, but mentally my brain is now wide awake. So, I guess I’ll go do some laundry to pass the time.