Summer has begun, and my country is 141 years old today.
It’s been a mixed couple of days. I’ve had some nice highs…the geeky love-in with the most recent Doctor Who episode, a nomination for a teaching award…
I’ve had some less than stellar moments: my mom is under the weather (which is never a good thing), I miss my dad, I had a stressful last day at work (a certain someone’s smug, evil face was in my head all weekend), and I’m a bit dizzy and ill myself today. Combined with a few plans falling through, the result is that I’ve been alone with my melancholy thoughts for the last two days.
I’m sure it will get better…guests arriving from Poland, and my sister’s wedding are about to obliterate any and all considerations…but in this calm before the storm, I’m feeling (physically & mentally) out of sorts. A little threadbare in the soul.
Maybe it’s due to the fact that we’re coming up on the one year anniversary of my family’s blackest time…as the middle of the month brings the first anniversary of the start of the year of hell: the year of chemotherapy, radiation, hospital trips, infections, ambulance calls, and slow death. It’s something I have no intention of writing about again…though don’t hold me to that. Perhaps I should say that I don’t WANT to write about it / think about it / contemplate it…
Anyhow, it’s Canada Day & there’s a Jaws marathon on TV (nothing like a set of really REALLY bad monster flicks to take your mind off the grim mental slums of reality). I’ll try to keep out of mischief, and swallow a bit more gravol.
Enjoy your holiday, everyone.
