I’ve looked around at apartments to see what will be available to me come June. It’s not just that my landlord is despicable and thoroughly tests my faith, it’s that this place is now well out of my financial abilities. That’s too bad bc I would have dealt with the landlord situation.
I’m looking for an apartment with central heat and central air. I don’t have that here. One of the things about CRSD and even Lupus is that we have to keep our body temperature pretty even. A window air conditioner doesn’t do that nor do base board heaters. It’s too cold for me in the living room but too hot for Jane in the bedroom so she’s out there most of the time.
I haven’t had tea parties this summer as planned bc of pain issues. I’ve been able to make greeting cards for people but I don’t feel as though I’ve done the type of giving I wish to do. At the moment I’d have an angry self to offer which isn’t that great, but I think there’s a sense of loss because I’ve not been able to have the kids over or any families over. That was to be a big part of my summer and fall.
I doubt I would have rehomed all three of my frogs had I been more active in volunteer work. The kids would have been here regularly and the frogs are part of what they come to see. There’s no way on earth I’d ever, ever get rid of Pete. I’ve had him since he was two months old. He isn’t going anywhere. I thought about getting him stuffed after he dies but that feels like a break from normal. That’s too much for me. I’m fine with having a taxidermy frog or fish, just as long as it wasn’t my pet at one time. A woman I knew talked about getting her dog ‘stuffed’ after he died. I can’t. When my Mary Jane passes I’ll need medication, possible psychiatric hospitalization and buckets of wine but I will not need a taxidermist.
I’ve thought about space needs for pets in a new apartment. I need pets. I need me some land frogs along with Pete, and a super-duper art studio kitty cat. They are as important to me as any medication.
Since I don’t get out as much, I must be able to stand to look at the walls around me. I am at home most of the time so this can’t feel like a prison. It must look and feel like 650 sq ft of art canvas. That’s how I treat it.
As far as my volunteer work goes, I have to remember things are going to change according to my abilities. My health is going to yo-yo. It might be days at a time that I’m down or longer but this is what happens with CRSD and Lupus. It’s going to be difficult, which is an understatement. However, if I remember that I will get another chance to volunteer in some capacity next year, it’ll help ease this feeling of devastation that I didn’t get to do much this year. I have to remember to focus forward.
It feels devastating that I wasn’t able to participate more fully this year. Devastating is a big word but that’s how piled up losses can feel.