Saturday - July 5th. The holiday came and went without so much as a nod from me. The biggest thing I did outside of a huge scrub-down on the shower and tub was try to create a homemade mimosa using fresh blended oranges and champagne. It was a fail; probably a blessing. Successfully drinking alone on a holiday is just asking for the perfect storm.
I did recognize the ‘why’ of it though. I realized I just really don’t want to feel. I know people say ‘whatever the problem is, it will still be there the next day’. I know this. I think I just wanted a few hours escape.
Is this life in general? I wanted to play the Cutty card and I know that deck is still fresh enough to use but was that the only ante? Okay, enough metaphors. I’ve not had enough coffee to keep that flowing.
I considered a list of things to do yesterday, places to go, etc. I have this now very beautiful (to me) home, comfortable, surrounded by things I love.. yet I was on edge being here as, yeah, the ghosts are still here and likely will forever be (around).
But I cannot continue to escape them by ‘leaving’ either physically or by attempting to battle them using alcohol as my armor. Damn, there goes the metaphors again.
So back to clarity. I stayed home. Stayed sober. Cleaned. Cooked soup.
Moved Alec into a larger container (I used the 4 gallon vase from my birthday flowers last year) and he seems totally excited with it. He’s been swimming up and down and around in a whole different way than he did in that other bowl for two weeks. I’m in ‘operation restraint’ mode to not go all out w/the full aquarium, etc., in celebration of him lasting nearly two weeks now. My compulsive behaviour usually yields that my home would look like sea world by the end of the day. History. Not wanting to repeat THAT.
Today is Mushy’s birthday; my little baby is six years old. While I’ve not had her near as long my heart and prayers go out to our friend NM for Ginger.
All things food were okay yesterday. I reminded myself that I did suffer a minor heat stroke during my big weight loss back in my 20’s - with the massive loss I wasn’t acclimated to temperature and decided to go mow the lawn wearing jeans, boots, and blah blah in July.
Just like the other day, riding the bike, I didn’t feel hot and I was drinking water, but when I woke up after blacking out (in my 20’s) I was still soaked with sweat and have never been able to tolerate extreme heat since. The trick is.. I don’t know when it’s too hot. Trick or curse. I loved being in New Mexico - the dry heat instead of all the humidity of Texas. Never felt it. Until it was too late, of course.
So maybe that’s why fate brought me a pug. Mushy cannot tolerate heat either. Because of their breathing challenges she starts panting at 75 degrees. I’ll be like ‘huh? seriously?’ but then maybe she’s saving me. Add that to her ‘service dog’ duties. ‘Mommy doesn’t know when it’s time to get out of the sun.’
Well, so in my world, home is a little cleaner. Mushy is snoring contentedly. Alec is swimming with zeal. I think.. I’ll go find my shoes, get in the car and try to find some adventure. I think I’ll grab the overnight bag just in case.
It’s obvious I’m never going to make Yo’s 75 in 31 challenge goals as I’m not weighing, recording food and I need to be careful with my activity in the heat. I may beg her to recreate this challenge when the temperatures cool.
And that’s it for me. Hope you’re all enjoying your holiday weekend. Thank you for stopping by to visit with me.
Bells
