missing time

anybody miss seven/twenty-one?

i didn’t. i mean i did.

but, i didn’t realize i did, until i did.

well, there went my thirteen year streak.

not surgeries, not five-thirty am internet failures as i’m out the door to ireland.

not polar vortex, not even tornado energy grid failure.

yes, a warning signal. oops, a snoozed reminder. the tone of missing time.

a sweetly snuggly cat or two, supper at one am.

i’m a bit baffled by my notice delay.

i can’t pinpoint it. but, i can twenty/twenty.

a plethra of projects with immoderate commitments.

i’ll tell ya what, tho. it’s been fun.

by ‘fun’ i mean a real challenge. for me.

fascination, curiosity, mind-stretch; un-slight, devoted hours.

gladsome. i’m all game. it’s all good.

stress is part of the good. because, it really is.

i chose the contest. i selected the set. i’m courting skills.

i’m proud of my all-in self.

even if i did crash the word carriage. re-routing ruts.

happily still in it. six more weeks, grappling with goals.

expecting to win at the three. yeah, this is how life should be.

Quote for the Week:

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Morning, Mid-Week

Started out a bit of a cranky mid-week.

Creaky body (because I exercised).

Uncooperative eyelids (because I was up late working on a project.)

Morning nausea (not pregnant. lol.)

Took an out for my work-out.

Ate an orange (because I probably didn’t eat enough, yesterday.) (actually, there’s no probably about it.)

Did a verb (for perk.)

Plopped down to check if today would be walking weather (rather unwisely.)

Checked FB blog traffic (nada.)

But then,

there was kitty-closeness.

Blu belly kneading.

Nala noggin bumping.

I reset my alarm for another hour of sleep.

Everyone settled down nicely.

Sir Harley on my lap.

Mia pressed up against my head.

Pretty purrs lulled me back to sleep (almost.)

Then,

I sneezed.

Harley Blu rocketed, as he usually does. He hates sneezing.

Nala-Mia, though… she fell right off the back of the couch.

The two together struck me in an Abbott and Costello, Tom & Jerry kinda way.

It took me about 20 seconds to stop laughing so hard I could thumb this into my phone notes.

Took me a while to completely stop spontaneously bursting into giggles.

Now, that’s the way to make an iffy mid-week morning good.

Sorry, babies. giggle*snort*giggle

Quote for the Week:

sternutation

ask me about the verb thing.

Or…

.

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Bandage. Bandana.

If you’ve been there, it doesn’t matter how removed you are, how not-too-close you are, to the situation.

You don’t need to be there, or even slightly on the fringe.

Miles away holds the same cosmic shock as standing toe-to-toe.

In a flash. Flashback.

It’s all real, again. Not exactly the same, but you’re tossed that way.

Way back there, to that little box on the board that emotionlessly announces: This is where you are. This is your new beginning.

A new, non-optional, previously unimaginable, reluctantly occupied space becomes the jumping point.

Because the circular shift, the spin of the table, turns you dizzy.

The rules have completely changed, now, into a language you don’t understand. You thought you were winning.

This is the new precipice – the launch of the unimaginable.

Everything looks dully the same here in the realm of faded all.

The elimination of Point A to Point B, negates any previously planned paths.

The rebirth is deficient doors that will not take – that will never take – you where you want to go.

Open or closed; not one of them will stop the flow.

There’s no portal to the past. Only provenance.

Prior plans do not matter; there’s no map for this journey. No perfectly sized torniquet, either.

Bandage. Bandana. The heart bleeds through just the same.

with sympathy.