Archive | September 2019


I am weary this morning.

My hips ache when I sit, or stand.  All the lifting, bending, packing, unpacking.

I fell over this morning.  I was just standing, reaching for a book, fell over.

I fell on pillows, did not hit my head, or knees, or toes.

I shall not tell Julie.  She’ll worry I need assistance in living, or worse, she’ll just be annoyed.  I was often annoyed with my mother, too.  It happened.  I am sorry.

I dread the day J, and/or others, thinks I need to live in a nice “home” with other people around me, watching me, insisting I converse, participate, get up and dressed before my morning coffee. Other people choosing my clothes, my food, my activities; keeping me medicated so I will behave.  They shall pay, heh, heh, heh.

Today, I just need my hips and legs, my ankles and feet, my shoulders and wrists, hands and fingers to stop aching.  Blue Emu might do the trick, eh?  Walking helps.  Tiger Balm.

Physically, this move to this apartment was wretchedly painful…only just a bit more than the mental despair of living in an apartment (call it a condo, or whatever you choose, it is an apartment – how stupid was I?).

I need a garden.

I shall have one…