Don't Worry! Be Happy!

 Despite the fact that I swore an oath to never buy another orchid again due to the fact that I always end up murdering them, I saw some tiny ones at Publix last week and bought that purple one. I took it out of the little white ceramic cup it came in and put it in the pretty pitcher that came with the two bowls I bought at the Bad Girls Get Saved By Jesus Thrift Store a few weeks ago. Those bowls have already brought me eight dollars worth of pleasure, which is what I paid for them and the pitcher, and now it is pleasing me too. 

And if the orchid dies, it dies. All things must pass eventually. 

Today was a Candie day and as we all know, being in your house at the same time as a cleaner is just...uncomfortable. Well, it is for me. And of course I had the lunch with Lily planned and then we asked Jessie if she wanted to come and then Mr. Moon heard about it and he wanted to join us and next thing we knew, Vergil was coming too so it was a big table instead of a small one and we had a good time. Chow Time never disappoints. I think we have all learned how not to overdo it there which can be easily done. I have to say though that I love seeing the guys who are obviously outdoor workers come in and fill up plates so that they resemble small mountains of all the foods. And of course all of these men are relatively small but I can't even comprehend the number of calories they burn through in one day's work doing construction or landscaping or yard maintenance or road work or...whatever. 
We, however, are not construction workers although Mr. Moon is sometimes and actually, so is Vergil. But not always. Not everyday. So we must show restraint unless we want to be rolled out of there like a doodlebug in the dirt. 
We laughed a lot at lunch. Lily, whom I always say is the funniest person in our family, retold the story of how she lost an earbud in her sleep one night and where she found it the next day while in the shower, and I will not repeat it but it's a good story and ended with the words, "I thought I was growing a tumor or something!"
You get the gist. 

While we were eating I discussed the fact that I was going to go get my Covid and flu shots like Mr. Moon had done the day before and he reminded me that I'd gotten the Covid shot a few months ago. That I had been one ahead of him. 
"Oh yeah," I said. So after lunch and after I did my Publix shopping I went to Walgreens to get just the flu shot. It was great. I didn't have to wait very long and the woman who signed me in asked me all the questions which were easily answered and then on the last one she said, "Okay, this is stupid but I have to ask..." 

And I said, "Am I pregnant?" 

"Yes!" she said. "How did you know?" 
"Well, you said it was a stupid question." I then hastened to tell her that one never knows- miracles can happen and I certainly haven't gotten my period in a long time so..."

"Neither have I!" she said, and we both laughed. The guy who gave me the shot had on a name tag that said "Noah" and he sported a mustache as fine as any pornstar's which I'm sure he's grown in order not to be ID'ed every time he tries to buy a beer. He was okay but I seriously got the feeling that because of my age he was certain that he was dealing with an old demented person, which is partially true on both accounts, but not entirely. He asked me which arm I preferred and I cracked up, thinking instantly of the question in terms of whether I like my right arm the best or my left. I knew what he meant but it sounded funny to me. I shared the joke with him and he fake-chuckled. 
Ah well, Noah. Give yourself fifty-five years and you'll be the old demented person and someone will be treating you like you should probably be in a nursing home eating gruel-goo from a bowl with an afghan across your knees. 

I've felt okay today. Not great, physically, but is that lingering effects of Covid or is it due to my little dip here into depression or am I dying of some as-of-yet undiagnosed terminal illness? 
Who knows? Certainly not me. 
I forced myself to make two medically related phone calls this morning. One to the Gyn to make an appointment to put my legs in the stirrups and one to Dr. Zorn's office to ask what the protocol is now to get blood drawn for labs before my appointment which is in SEVENTEEN DAYS. And that tiny, nonthreatening little exercise in dealing with something like an adult just about wrecked me and sent me into a deep place of anxiety. I feel sure that I'll be coasting along the surface of this place until both appointments are over. If I'm lucky. If I'm not, I'll just fall right in and struggle not to drown. 
Hell. I might as well schedule an eye exam which I know I am dreadfully overdue for. And I'm not even scared of eye exams. Or gynecological exams either, for that matter. 

Okay. Let's move on to a less stressful topic. 

Tonight's debates. 
Will you be watching them? I believe we will be. I'm not quite sure why. Kamala Harris could do anything, say anything, and I would still be voting for her. I can't even think of anything she could do or say that was so terrible I'd vote for Donald Fucking Trump. 
And yet- talk about stressful. Our country is absolutely facing the biggest threat it's ever faced as far as I can see and the results of the coming-up election will determine whether we continue as a democracy or turn into a fascist state ruled by an insane dictator. I am so fucking sick of the media treating Trump and the things he says and does as if they were somehow normal for a presidential candidate while meanwhile holding Kamala to a standard that does indeed imply a sense of normality. How can she fight against that if half the country doesn't care that Trump doesn't know how magnets work or that he has the emotional maturity of a toddler who is not yet potty trained or that he's a convicted felon or that he's a huge racist and misogynist, a cheater, a liar, a sexual predator, a failed businessman, tried to overturn a certified election and encouraged a treasonous take-over of the capitol, and god knows what else? 

They do not care.

Trying to focus on the good, the simple, the real. Breathe in, breathe out. Keep doing that as long as you can. 
That's all I have tonight.

Love...Ms. Moon