Just Call Me Cocaine Katy. No. Not Really. Just Kidding

If yesterday was about contentment and getting things done and sweetness, today has been about a lint-gray sky and always feeling cold even though it hasn't been cold and trying to figure out why I have two appointments with Dr. Zorn, one in March, one in May, and also trying to figure out why my G.D. mobile credit union app won't take my password OR send me an email with a code on it to create a new password, and wondering all day long about why I have these crummy dreams set in places beside an ocean but an ocean which is fierce and somehow heavily involved in some sort of heavy industry and we're not talking wind turbines. In fact, I realize now that I have a lot of dreams set in places where roads or buildings are being constructed and there are always huge trucks and huge heavy equipment which would definitely not be appropriate to operate while taking certain medications. And on top of the wild seas and so forth, I kept being called a "clan mother" which somehow translated to being responsible for many children and I kept saying, "But I'm so tired. I've been doing this since I was 21 years old!" and no one listening or caring and oh yeah, my husband had left me AGAIN! 
And Clan Mother? What is that? I should live in cave and wear the skins of mastodons and make herbal tinctures to cure illnesses and ensure fertility, while I'm changing diapers made of linen that I wove from the flax I grew and making sure the toddlers neither fall in the fire or get snatched by saber-toothed tigers?
What the fucking fuck is wrong with me? 

I did figure out that one of the appointment cards is for Glen who also goes to Dr. Zorn. I was trying to get my 2026 calendar in order with the dates of birthdays and anniversaries, and so forth and filling in the days with appointments already made. And yes, I do still use a paper calendar and it's always a Virgin of Guadalupe calendar because that is the way I do it and there you go. 

I've got two dang appointments coming up quick-quick, both with doctors I asked Zorn to refer me to, one a dermatologist, one a urologist and that's not helping my mindset very much. Why the hell are these doctors so quick to schedule appointments? 

Glen has gone fishing again. He got up in the dead of night to drive down to the coast with his friend Rob to be on the boat at dawn. He just texted a few minutes ago to say they'd reached land safely. He won't be home for hours and he plans to go duck hunting tomorrow which also requires a predawn rising and I feel certain he'll sleep most of the day after he gets home. He keeps telling me that he refuses to die just sitting in his chair and I don't think that's going to be a problem unless he expires from fatigue while he's sleeping in it. 

On top of it all, I don't feel like I got anything done. I just felt too low to do much of anything although I did finally get my ass out to the garden to do some more weeding where, as you can see, my loyal (not a saber-toothed) tiger cat followed me and hung out the entire time I was there. I was hoping for a garden dirt cure but really, all that happened is that I aggravated the sore place in my ribs. And to add insult to injury, I was listening to a book that's, at the very best, tolerable. Until, that is, the author starts another sex scene. I'm too old for that. Not sex, in and of itself, but of sex scenes in books where the author quickly runs out of adjectives and phrases used to describe heat, passion, and desire. Know what I mean? Maybe it's just me but no one ever seems to get it right. 

I finished a patch on my old jeans so yippie! This is taking forever. I want to get started on mending a pair of Owen's jeans that have quite a rip below one of the back pockets but since I forgot to bring them home, I couldn't get started on them anyway. I'll get them this week. Perhaps he can drive them out himself, seeing as they're on Christmas break. I asked him if he was afraid of color in the mending and he said he wasn't. I threatened to sew velvet strips to the hems of the legs and really hippie them out but he wasn't wild about that idea. I don't know why. He has such great hippie hair and I've done everything I can to instill hippie values in him. 
I love that boy so much. He told me how sorry he was that I'd had a fall and he offered to come over and dig up all the roots to prevent me from tripping over another one. Which would be impossible but he was so sweet to offer. He told me, "You're a tough little lady." 

Okay, okay. I'll be the Clan Mother. Whatever. 

And I see this post is going nowhere. Just bitch, bitch, bitch, complain, complain, complain, and so forth ad nauseam. It's felt like a Sunday all day and I'm going to be surprised to wake up tomorrow and discover it's Sunday again. 

But let us not end on a bad note. I just watched this and it made me feel so much better. I hope you enjoy it. 

And yes, they did indeed get their picture on the cover of the Rolling Stone. 

Ask and ye shall receive? It's always worth a try. 

Love...Ms. Moon