My friend Kelly and I have a running joke that I should never say, “That’s my plan.” It gets me in trouble all the time. I’ll look at a situation, find the best possible scenario and make it my plan… and then it all inevitably goes to hell in a hand basket. So now we think about the best possible scenario and decide that it sure would be nice, but declare emphatically that I’m totally not planning on it.
Because if it’s a plan… it’s not happening.
After my whole episode of waking up in the kind of pain that made it so I couldn’t walk, I really believed I had been through the worst of it. I made the mistake of having a plan somewhere in the deepest recesses of my brain of how this latest setback was going to right itself, and was positive I’d be on an upswing in no time.
I’m sure you can guess how that’s been turning out.
This past weekend went swiftly to the aforementioned hell in a hand basket, and I think it’s safe to say Saturday was one of my worst days ever. I won’t bore you with the details, but I will say I have no doubt now this is going to be a long road of getting back to my normal self. Or, at the very least, establishing a new normal for myself. Patience and fortitude are going to be my new mantra.
In the midst of all this, I sat here thinking about how grateful I am to have started this blog last year. I really just wanted to see if I still had it in me to write, but now I think it actually took off like it did – and all of you found me here – because I would need this to keep me going in times like these. I would need it to keep me mentally motivated and participating, even when I physically can’t, and even if it is at a different pace.
So, this sporadic schedule of posting is probably going to go on for quite awhile because I’m not making any plans [even in the quiet thoughts of my own head] as to how these next several months are going to go. I know the road I’m on, but I’m still trying to figure out how the heck to walk down it. So I’m going to deal with what comes as it comes, and I’m going to come here to what feels like my reprieve as much as I can to talk to you all. And tell you some stories. And answer questions. And keep myself connected to the outside world. And make sure you don’t forget this nose:
Because really, who could live without that nose?
***** ***** ***** ***** *****
And it’s good to remember that in the midst of all of life’s insanity there’s always good stuff, too.
Like the fact that Mom and Dad came for a visit on Friday afternoon, and I put them to work with some heavy lifting. Part of me wanted the couches moved around because of the “different decorating” philosophy I talked about in my last post, but mostly it was because I discovered my flowered couch was a lot more comfortable for me right now. It has one long seat cushion, is more firm and has higher arms to lean against… all of which makes it easier for me to get up and down and is more comfortable for my ribs when I’m sitting up. You’d think cushiony would be better, but I’ve learned it’s not so great to “sink into” furniture.
But I digress… the point here is that I took before and after photos per your request! I have to tell you, it feels like I got all new furniture because the switch makes my house look so different.
Here’s my red room before:
And the red room after:
Riley wasted no time testing out his new couch position:
“Seriously, woman… all this decorating is getting out of hand… will you just leave well enough alone already?”
Here’s the piano room before:
And the piano room after:
And here’s a shot just so it makes sense why I call it the piano room:
I now think I’m officially done redecorating/rearranging, which is probably a good thing. I actually had the thought pass through my mind to paint over my wall of doodles when I get stronger and change that up, but I think I would totally regret that impulse. Best I quit while I’m ahead and just enjoy the comfort of my “new” couch, don’t you think?!?!?
“Change one more thing and I swear I’m leaving you…”
Yep. Riley agrees.