I haven't given sweet pea a typical 2-3 hour walk in almost a week due to the sliced paw pads she got last week. I don't think I can keep her down much longer and will go for a normal walk tomorrow. We were just getting back into the swing of things together after a summer of not so much walking due to fear of bugs, animals, and own personal back/hip/foot pain. I just wanna take my dog for super long walks. Really. Is that too much to ask? Obviously it might be asking for too much since and clearly the reason is because I LIKE IT and it isn't only for sweet pea but for my own sanity, and art and somehow that makes the universe throw road block after road block in my way. Fuck you universe, I will prevail. I will find a way and I will walk and I will make art. Go ahead and test me, you can push me down but I am getting back up. Nyah!
And then again sweet pea rolled in some stinking animal shit today which I am pretending I don't notice (though I might rub a soapy wash cloth over her before letting her into my bedroom tonight) and I feel that this, this rolling in stinky shit and ignoring it, is so representative of every waking moment of my today as I live it life.
That being said, there was a food truck festival today and I suggested we lunch there just so I could drag the duds (husband and Josh aka: a perfect day involves pajamas and my computer with ice cream) I live with out of the house, but Josh told me he had just eaten a late breakfast and by the time we got there for an early dinner just about all of the actual food trucks were sold out and only the dessert trucks had stuff so we went to a middle eastern place instead. It didn't really matter because the husband who will not sit in a wheel chair almost passed out taking 5 steps away from the car so it wasn't going to be a relaxing and fun adventure anyway. He also went down earlier in the day- I was sitting on the couch he was steps away from me and never uttered a distress sound or made any attempt at asking help. I was staring at my phone (it's 2017!) and heard the clatter of bones on the hard wood floor and there he was, down on the floor. Did you ever want to punch someone for not telling you they were about to get hurt? Really, I want to hurt the dude for not trying to not get hurt. Fucking dementia. I guess I really want to kick the ass of dementia. You have got to be in this situation to understand the frustration of trying to be respectful of someone's dignity and integrity when they are only half way home. I mean, I can say the right thing but he does not cooperate. I know he can't. It's a horrible place to be.
I missed out on another photography related event this weekend. When I think about how I imaged my life would be after finishing school I feel so stupid because my life wasn't as exciting and carefree as what I had hoped for for even a minute. I didn't get one fucking tiny little eclipse of time to be all about my art and me. Fuck you life. The truth is I could have dragged myself in to the city today but these days I am so sad every minute of every day that the thought of being around people I might be required to talk to is overwhelming to the point of paralyzation. And those people were all there, the ones I would have loved to see and the ones I'd prefer to never see again, so I just didn't go. Also, I can't lie when people ask How are you? so I don't want to get into things. It's too tragic, even for me and I am pushing through it. And as someone who pays attention to this sort of shit I know for a fact that the only people who have any clue what I am feeling now are the small percentage of people who have been through very similar situations and with all of the health, family and financial complications that is a slim to none crowd. No one there could have any guess how this life feels right now.
Also, I hate being the downer person of the group. Also, why can't I go through menopause like a normal old lady? When will my fertility end? (Yes, aunt flo arrived this morning.)
I'll just wait this out until I can go forward with some joy.
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