serafaery

Pretty sure both of my parents died in January, but I don't actually know the date for dad's death. My brother was there, he might know. (He very well might not remember the day. Who wants to mark such a thing. I'm grateful the parks dept requests no death date on their memorial markers. A year is acceptable but I chose to leave even that off. it doesn't matter.) It's been 20 years since we lost dad, this year. In a lot of ways, it's still too traumatizing to think about.

I was going through my contacts deciding who to deliver cookies to, and when I hit Madoc's name, my heart just sank. it's amazing how much emptier life feels when you lose someone close to your age, who was an emotional pillar, who was such a good influence, who brought wisdom and humor and insight and compassion and actual physical help. He was a better person than I was, a smarter, stronger, more interesting, more capable person. he should not have died that way. It sucks to watch people with cancer wither. really sucks.

I feel bad for anyone who has to watch that, or watch dementia unfold. sometimes i want to get the genetic test to see how many of the APOE4 markers I have. If you have more than 3, you have something like a 75% chance of developing dementia. I probably have 20. I can just tell. There are little things I've learned in research, and through experience, that indicate that my brain is set up for this. The most obvious one to me is the hearing voices thing. Dementia folks start to think they hear other people talking in the next room, when nobody is there. I still know nobody is there, but my brain interprets certain kinds of sounds, like distant water gurgling, or oddly, the squeak of my ski bindings when my ears are buried in ear wraps and a hat, as human voices. I find myself trying to hear who's speaking and what they are saying, I will stop skiing and listen, and then realize it's just that thing my brain does.

it's okay. i'm too tired to fret over it anymore.

finally got my appointments up for the rest of the month. it was so hard. a friend indicated to me that it sounds like i have covid burnout. i hate having to lean on my friends' therapists because i still can't find my own. i'm glad i'm taking a short break at the end of the month.

I think I'm 50% comprised of clementines at this point.

tomorrow will be better. josh and i will run in the morning, and i can work on my orders and packing up my skates and futzing with my office. i know it will be nice once i get it organized, i'm excited to try, it's just all really overwhelming, at the moment. where to begin.

maybe i can bribe myself with that little cheap loveseat i found that i think would fit nicely in here, and would be really versitile as additional seating in the livingroom, too, if we ever one day have more than one friend at a time come visit, lol.

i lost my espresso spoon over the holiday, and now i want to replace it with a set of little used gold plated ones that look like faery spoons that are $15 for four of them with shipping. am I nuts? maybe it's okay to be a little nutty.