Dear Diary
I’m tired. I’d say it’s a Crohn’s thing, but I’m at the point where I can’t honestly place the blame on having an autoimmune disease that prohibits my body from absorbing useful nutrients. It might be more honest to say: I’m winter tired.
Don’t get me wrong, here. I love winter. I missed winter. It had been a handful of years since winter and I had a chance to be intimate, and we’ve been making up for lost time, let me tell you. But I had imagined something a little more romantic, something log-cabin-hot-cocoa-bear-skin-ruggy, instead of coming into work and finding that someone thought it’d be a good idea to have a vent drilled through the sterilization room during work hours. For example.
My mom accused me of being unhappy, and I can tell you and her with all sincerity that she is wrong. I missed the Puget Sound more than I was willing to let on, and each day I slog to work through sideways rain I breathe a sigh of somewhat damp relief. Weeks are flying by faster than I care to acknowledge, and the internal timeline I’d had for getting back on my financial feet is now a hilarious blip in my review mirror, but you know. It’s winter. We hibernate by watching too much TV and eating nachos and telling ourselves that the reason we can’t find a second job is because it’s winter.
And then!
My co-workers and I crawled into work like a cannibal soccer team each morning to see if the power was on (mostly!). Ice-encased branches ripped from trees with the heart-stopping sound of china breaking.
It’s always heartbreaking to see the damage of an ice storm, and I worry every single minute about my mom out in the forest by herself with just a little generator and spotty cell phone connection, but it’s just so fucking gorgeous, I can’t stand it.
Every blobular twist, each straining and drooping branch; nature simply cannot more clearly put her arm around your shoulder and steer you back toward the electric heater and say “Just one more cup of tea. You’ll have time to go down to the basement and start the laundry later.”
January 21st, 2012 | Drama!, Totally Unrelated
WOW that is crazy! Those icy trees look so cool.
I feel compelled to challenge you to a nacho-off in which we both demonstrate how we nacho at the same time sometime. I fucking represent.
Oh no, there doesn’t need to be a nacho-off, you’ll win it. I am terrible at making nachos. Or rather: I can’t seem to make nachos that I think are correct. I think they should have some kind of liquid cheese on them, because I hate tearing off a chip and having four chips worth of cheese peel off with it, which means that I need to be making some kind of excellent fancy queso from scratch but… I inevitably don’t and resort to Velveeta + Rotel. And canned jalapeno sliecs and maybe olives if I’m feeling fancy.