Dear Old Dad had his Fecal Transplant on December 20th thanks to an anonymous shit doner (THANK YOU, ANONYMOUS SHIT DONER!!! By the way, who in the hell donates their SHIT????) He is doing fantastically well and we have some hope that he may have finally beaten the evil C-DIFF (horrible colin toxin that causes horrible diarrhea that will just about kill you). So my Dad, who has been on his death bed, literally, five times this year, lives to fight another day! Kind of inspires me to fight for my life! What would my life be like if I were such a fighter?
I used to be scrappy, I think. And maybe under a gallon of Isolating which results in Depression, or Depression which results in Isolation (which one is it?), there is still a scrapper who will fight to pull her head out of her ass. I don’t know. All I DO know is that my first class starts a week from today and dammit I need to summon my resources and manage to LEARN this shit! Am I scared? FUCK YEAH. Am I going to do it anyway? FUCK YEAHHHHHHHH. So yeah here comes a class.
Oh and by the way I am writing this fantastic piece from MY OWN HOME, THANK YOU VERY MUCH!!!! Here I tossed and turned and hemmed and hawed about “Will I ever have my own home again?” and KABOOM! Here I am! In my own home!! Be it ever so humble (and it is), it’s my fucking home!! With my stuff!!! And my space! No one to fuck with my serenity!!! Well, it’s been a long time in coming, I will say that. And I have to say, I am grateful. I couldn’t see my way out of the situation when my sister asked me to move out of her house, and it didn’t in any way look positive. But this is a hell of a positive outcome. How does this happen?? I don’t know, I’m not extraordinarily capable. I think I have to chalk it up to my old friend Grace. I have been Graced with a home, and a new life opportunity with these upcoming classes, as scary and intimidating as they are.
I am still working for Dr. Flaky, and I have to say, she has upped her game! When I quit on her and she begged me to come back and I gave her all these ultimatums, she actually rose to the occasion and said “ok”. And then she proceeded to improve her behavior so that we didn’t have such a dysfunctional working relationship which was what originally caused me to quit on her! And now we have weekly meetings to keep up on things and, get this! For the new year she gave me a five dollar an hour raise! Woo. I guess the point of writing this all was for me to see how much I have to be grateful for. I hope I don’t sound like a dipshit goody two-shoes. Because I don’t think I am. But goddamn it’s nice to have some forward movement in life after a lot of stuck-feeling! I wonder if being stuck is a hallmark of Bipolar Disorder, or my own original brand of funk. I don’t know. I’d appreciate some opinions.
By the way, I am sorry I’ve been so “away”. Between Dad being sick and Mom having a stroke (don’t know if I ever mentioned that) and moving and working, I haven’t done much if any WordPressing. So I’m sorry for my lack of presence. Hope you all are doing well. BIG HUGS and PEACH OUT!!