First. I have a bone to pick with all of you. Whatevertheheckthatmeans.
My last post was out there on THE world WIDE internet for an entire day with a misspelling in the flipping title.
No one could point that out? Help a sista’ out?
I was so embarrassed that I almost deleted 12 years’ worth of posts.
What’s happening to me?
I’ve been waking up early. I am NOT a morning person.
Also, I wake up stiff and sore. I’m on the floor doing down-dog with the dogs trying to get this body to warm up for the day.
I’m not sure exactly what’s happening, but my only conclusion is that I’M GETTING OLD.
One morning last week I declared to the Coach: It’s Happening.
Since he’s two years ahead of me, he understands exactly what’s happening.
Shopping used to be a pleasure.
I went to Publix yesterday for our grocery run. I honestly can’t remember the last time I went INTO a store because we’ve been doing delivery. Maybe a month ago?
I thought, hey you’re a big girl Suzanne; you can do it.
Actually, since this has all started, I’m an even BIGGER girl.
Working on that…
In the past when the shit-show started I was panicky going to the store.
The mask. Wiping the cart down. THE MASK. Don’t touch your face. Follow the arrows in the aisles. THE MASK. Your eye isn’t itching, don’t’ touch it! The mask! Don’t yell at people who are clearly not capable of following general rules. The MASK!
It felt like a version of Gilead from The Handmaids Tale.
Limited conversation, limited eye contact. Surreal.
But yesterday, I was ok. I don’t love wearing the mask, but I was ok with it all.
I’m pretty darn proud of myself. Unless I wake up with the virus tomorrow.
Before my shopping escapade, I actually put on a real bra (I’m a sadist) tinted moisturizer AND mascara; I felt like a harlot. A 1986 glamour shot harlot.
I even wore a ring and earrings to Publix. I was feeling all sorts of crazy as I’ve not worn makeup or jewelry in quite a while. H.A.R.L.O.T
Were those actual doorknobs that I fashioned into earrings? No wonder my Etsy shop closed.
I had a great post written regarding some really exciting butterfly news. Then I realized, maybe you don’t care to read an entire post about my exciting butterfly news. Do you?
It kind of feels like this was the last time I was ‘close’ with my girls. 2001?
Happy mothers day to all you mothers of humans, of critters, of dragons, aunties, grandma’s, and Dad’s who’ve stepped up when Mom fled to Vegas. Lest we forget the motha’s too.