On Dreams and Dust

So it’s almost sunrise. I’ve been up since 1:30. What woke me? Teenagers. They were being super loud. Sleepovers are fun but apparently sleep being involved is old hat.

I decided to unpack some kitchen stuff but the little cat would howl like mad every time I went in the garage. She has never done that before. She is not attached to me and I don’t think she was wailing over concerns for my safety. Doubtless, she was just jealous of my early morning garage adventures without her.

So instead of waking the boyfriend and the (finally sleeping) kids, I’ve decided to do a little writing. It’s been a while and I’ve been quite busy moving.

So some great news–I have a new schedule at work. This will hopefully prevent me from drowsy driving in the mornings. My sleep tests have been put on hold until such time that I suddenly find myself independently wealthy. The cost of the studies after insurance? $2800. I don’t exactly have that kind of cash in savings. I was hoping for my responsibility to be oh, say, ten times less than that. $300 I could swing. $3000 not so much. So I guess without me winning the lottery we will never know what exactly is the root cause of my poor sleep quality and insomnia.

So the tests that were to be slated for yesterday and today were not done. And here I am awake and pondering whether I indeed have apnea or narcolepsy on top of everything else.  And despite the coffee, I am finally getting sleepy myself.

The move is going well though I feel like putting half of my stuff in a pile and burning it. Just reducing it all to ash. I have so many pots, pans, clothes, decorations, you name it. Despite my financial struggles the last few years I sure have continued to accumulate a lot of junk. Most of it’s not worth much to anyone but me. I should really try the decluttering thing. I guess in 13 years of marriage and 41 years of life, in general, you just collect things. Like dust. I feel like half my life is over and I spent a great deal of it being listless and depressed. Halted by so many things, not the least of which was having a spouse in the military and limited personal options. Are my talents worth anything anymore? Time will tell…

Speaking of my old marriage, I saw the ex just long enough to remember why we’re not married anymore. I won’t go into great detail but some of the things he says are just…wow. My boyfriend met him this last week during our little trips to Burley and it was less awkward than I would have thought possible, which was nice.

I just glanced over to see both my little cat ladies asleep on the guest bed. They are doing well, though the big orange tomcat continually gets the boot for harassment. Someday they will all learn to play together peacefully. Mona Lisa, named for her unique markings, will roll around on the couch every evening and even (gasp) expose her belly. She then makes these blissful little purring noises. I think she’s happy. I know I am.

This belly of mine certainly won’t be getting any exposure this summer. I think I gained 20 lbs just stress eating the past six weeks. But now we are settling into taking walks and cooking every night. So hopefully the addition of diet and exercise will help me meet some of my long-neglected health goals.

I also am starting to formulate some publication goals and am even entertaining the notion of applying for some scholarships to go back to school. I would like to be a writer in some fashion though I don’t think I could ever write fictional novels like I wanted to when I was a kid. I’m definitely a non-fiction type chick.

And always, there is this notion of life being finite. Hamilton is ringing in my head. “Why do you write like you’re running out of time?” With Father’s Day fast approaching, I have some idea why. None of us know how long we’ve got. It could be well over 50 more years, it could be today. I don’t know why I find it so important to leave a mark on the world. I guess I’d rather have my ideas etched in ink and internet than in dust.

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And oh the joys of YouTube. Where has this been all my life? Literary hero meets my ​musical heroine.

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