500 Words, Day 24 -- Much a To-Do About a List

Things to do today that maybe could double as blog posts:

Pay PreMed’s tuition for Summer Sessions 1 and 2. This is a blog and a half right here.  PreMed and her tuition and the goals those classes will advance -- the convoluted nature of having two daughters so close in age yet so far apart in temperament, worldview, and life goals, it’s as though they were raised by different people. And in a way, they were. Troubled gravitated toward her dad, fun-loving and indulgent; PreMed was pulled in another direction, maybe not towards me exactly, but towards choices that I could support.  The way it has ended up, Dad gives Troubled $1,000 per month for living expenses.   He wanted me to split that with him, but I refused to even partially subsidize an indolent life of part time work, no school and nothing to show for it.   Instead, I chose to give PreMed $1,000 per month for her living expenses and get loans for tuition and put the rest on credit cards with zero interest on balance transfers and keep transferring the balance to a new card to keep that tuition flowing.  A double-major in Biology and International Relations.  On her way to a Master’s in Public Health.  That kid is going to save the world someday and I will be able to say I helped make it happen.  Next.

Call one of my two IRL friends

Call the other one too

I was this close to actually doing this today, but the thought of talking to anyone about what’s happening with me these days make my throat close which makes it hard to swallow, and I can’t really talk when I’m crying anyway. Which is why I prefer to write.  Next.

Curl up under bed and practice fetal position--I’m pretty much a champion at this already.  I’m not going to practice so that I can give you guys a chance to catch up, skill-level-wise.  You’re welcome.  Next.

Exercise--yes.  I will.  I have to get past the 2nd quarter estimate deadline on Monday but then I promise, back to the pool.  I can cry underwater and no one knows.  Well, they probably do actually but fuck em.   Next.

Laundry -- my favorite of the household chores and I am not being sarcastic.  Even though I don’t have laundry in my place anymore.  The laundry room at my little string of garden apartments is not far, maybe fifty yards down the row.  The periodic breaks to move the clothes from the washer to the dryer punctuate the day very nicely.  Thirty minutes is an episode of Girls or a half an episode of West Wing or time to get a meatloaf and roast potatoes in the oven for Sunday dinner.  

Sit quietly and look back at the past month or so and realize that all signs point to depression.

Not like oh I had a bad day 26 days in a row or even because there’s sad stuff happening.  But overall there’s good stuff happening, and the fact that I get teary way more often than usual even for me is telling me that this time it’s my whack neurochemistry.  You can offer me all kinds of advice and ta very much because I know it comes from a good place, but I’ve been rocking this gig for longer than some of you have been alive.   So believe me when I say I got this.  Sometimes you have to feel it, let it wash over you, accept that it’s happening, don’t beat yourself up, but pay attention.  Work with it and maybe go see your shrink or therapist and say, it’s really bad right now and I just want you to know.  Maybe we should adjust the meds but I dislike doing that because when I start to feel better I never know if it’s the meds or me pulling myself up on my own which let’s face it would be the better answer in that particular scenario.  

Next.