Colds, moving, painting and vacation!

I don't get sick. And when I do get down (I refuse to call it "sick"), I drink the amount of fluid I should have been drinking in a day all along, take a handful of vitamins, sleep like I should every night and take a hot bath. I get back up, get over it and get on with my life. I don't have time to get sick and I don't take time for myself as often as I should. A combination that baffles most of the people I know.

So, once or twice a year, I get down. It is my body's way of telling me I need to take better care of myself. It is a reminder to hydrate, dose up on the vitamins and take a good long nap...also called a night's sleep in the book of most.

I typically sleep anywhere from 3 to 6 hours a night when I am in my own home. When I'm at Steph's house, I sleep usually much better...anywhere from 6 to 10 hours. She also makes me drink water. Blech! I know, she's just taking care of me, but I never have been and doubtfully will ever be a water drinker.

At the beginning of the month, we moved Steph to a new home. It is super cute but was a bit needy in the cosmetic arena. So, off to Lowe's we went and checked out the "mistake paint" section. You know, the buckets of paint that they mixed with the wrong amount of magenta or cyan...well it's only 5 bucks for a gallon (as opposed to the $28 or so you'd pay if you picked it yourself). We discovered the perfect two shades...one a warm tan and one a very light yellowish colour. We already had about a gallon of a warm tan colour that we took from the last place she lived.

So, we get back home with all our supplies including some brushes and rollers borrowed from a friend and mix together the two tans. The result: a perfectly homey, warm, inviting almost coffee with cream colour. We get started taping off the doors and windows and painting the walls in the living room. Transformation abounds!

While standing on a chair painting a corner Steph says "You put me to work when I'm supposed to be relaxing. It's the weekend." And while painting the wall next to a door, I say "Yes, and you are doing a great job!"

She loved it. She might not admit it right away, but she enjoyed it...until her throat started to hurt and a headache crept up on her.

Then, I painted the kitchen. She helped with the hall way and I did the bathroom. The house is now covered in a fresh coat of paint and looks very much better.

Steph, however is now coughing, sneezing, sputtering and hurting. She has had about 6 cups of throat coat tea (she hates tea) to try to make herself feel better. I bought her some soup and a box of cornbread mix. She was sick of cough drops. She'll be staying home tomorrow.

I'm refusing to get sick. I came home and put some chicken into my crock pot. Time to make my homemade chicken soup. Maybe I'll take some to Steph tomorrow.

We leave for a vacation at the end of this month. She'll be better, I won't get it and if it kills me, I'm going to make sure we have the time of our lives! No, really...I know we will have a great time. I'm actually more worried about finding a suitcase!

Tally ho!

Loss

My consciousness is melting like hot wax into the melodic voices and speed of the Irish fiddling of the group Celtic Woman in an attempt at distancing myself from the reality of the loss of a loved one.

Someone I've known and become very fond of over the past decade has passed from this life into the beyond and when I first heard the news, my voice cried out in response before my hand flew up to cover my mouth and muffle my own sounds.

I stood and walked aimlessly once I had control of my voice as tears threatened. My self control betrayed me and the hot tears spilled over staining my cheeks and reddening my eyes.

I sat back down for less than a minute before standing again to put on my coat and walk outside. I very rarely smoke during the day, and usually only when I drink, but today, before it was even ten in the morning, I walked outside and down several blocks, smoking and crying wiping the hot liquid that so rarely appears on my face and periodically words would fly from my mouth in shocked spurts shit! fuck! damnit! fuck! god damnit! shit!

I think I was in a bit of denial. I think I still am. How can this be? How is she gone? It's just not right, not possible, not right, not possibly true! Just not right, damnit!

A little bit of anger seems to be appearing in the midst of my denial. I'm angry at an ephemeral being. I'm angry at Chaos. I'm angry at Gaia. I'm angry at Tartarus. I'm angry at Eros. I'm angry at Erebus. I'm angry at Nyx.

I'm angry at THANATOS, damnit! How dare he take her!

I haven't lost someone quite so close to me in such a long time, this has hit very hard. I can sense that, can see it, smell it and hear it, taste it and touch it.

It is a dark shadow passing over my minds eye.

It is the scent of long reeds dried in hot sun after the rains came down and fermented them.

It is the sound of a flock of ten thousand crows filling the sky with their mocking caws.

It is a metallic flavour poisoning my palate.

It is the feeling of a too cold breeze wisping the air and sending a chill down my spine.

Later....

It really is odd the things that pass through you as a mental stream in times like these.

Just now I gasped at the horror of knowing that my friend was in the middle of a book and now she will never know the end. I'm such an avid reader, I think I would fight Thanatos with every last nerve just so I could live long enough to know how an author wrapped up their book. She was an avid reader as well and introduced me to some of my favorite authors so many years ago.

And now I sit here wondering if it's possible she now knows the end ... because 'that is the way'. I hope, for her sake, that it is. Because I am certain she would want to know how it ends.