I had the thought to nip this in the bud early this morning when it seemed that what I had sort of managed to not look at miserably, was well on its way to misinterpretation.
Birthdays, I’ve come to realize, are importantly more thankful than death days. If it weren’t for birthdays, we’d not have the pain of the other day. There has to be one before the other, and in life there will always be both.
Appreciate all the support and advice, and request you not be offended by how it made me giggle.
Of course, the cemetery would likely be safe. I’ve rarely run into another living soul, there. I’d not have to keep a 6-foot distance from the markers, although the markers are safely keeping at least a 5-foot distance from each other.
Irony. I always keep wipes in my car in case I get by to tend to Jeff and Sally and Nannee. And Poppa Vincze. Although I’d not met him, he’s the other half of Nannee’s package deal. Oddly, enough, I cart around disinfecting Lysol wipes, to be exact. They conveniently come in-bulk from Costco and can only be tolerated when not used in an enclosed, unventilated environment with no opening windows, aka outside.
So, yes, I could have. Easily. I chose not to for residuals. I’d have to get gasoline and avoid the growing temptation to shop for Sprite and chips. I’m sure that seems light to some folks.
I’ve managed to stay safe by not having a face-to-face or even remotely public experience for an official four weeks. By sheer coincidence, I haven’t marketed since March 7th.
In addition to a life-long, silent, you-can’t see-it and would never know it, non-deadly auto-immune deficiency, I’ve been additionally warring with my body for control for thirteen months now. Finally, with correct medical intervention, I’m just beginning to feel progress in that battle.
The thing is, the deficiency won’t kill me. It can, however, heartily assist the Corona Virus in accomplishing that.
So, I wasn’t any more lonely this morning than I ever am. I was thinking deeply about being thankful for the birthday and making the responsibly right choice for me.
I’m lonelier now in a lovely eye-opening way.
Thank you all for the love.
I miss you all who feel the same, today.
I know we keep saying it, but, damn it, we’ve really got to.
I’m thinking a grave-side Joke-Fest in July. Bring your best stupid joke, awful pun, long story.
I’ll buy out Lev’s and meet you there.
knabble 