kitt's blog

This year is my Year of Healing™. That healing includes letting go of stuff, of baggage, of behaviors that are no longer useful or desired, of emotions that I don't want, of the person I don't want to be. Lots of internal things, but that first one I could use help with. I don't. want to have to move all this unwanted stuff again. I'm four months into the year, and haven't made a lot of progress.

So, I hired a personal assistant to help me out with my purging of stuff.

She started today.

I'm pretty excited about the help. I'm a bit nervous about the new Covid vector, especially so close to my upcoming trip, but I need the help, and now seemed good, both for my motivation and her availability.

As I was sitting at my desk this morning, I heard a sudden FLUP FLUP FLUP FLUP FLUP FLUP FLUP, which startled me. The sound stopped as quickly as it started. Puzzled, I walked over to the fan, just in time to see two moths flung from the insides of the fan.

How crappy that moment was: two moths, fluttering around each other, zoom this way, zoom that way, and hey, what is this neat air flow, BOOM, dead, bodies flung out of the blades.

As one does after a really hard workout: one goes for sugar (or in my case, even more sugar).

In my birthday tradition, I went to Sprinkles for cupcakes after my hike. In not my yearly tradition, I ordered only six.

As my intimate circle of friends continues to shrink, I have fewer people to feed cupcakes to on my birthday. I mean, fewer people to celebrate with. Wait, no, that doesn't sound much better. I adore that Martha messages me every birthday. I look forward to outdoors things with her some day.

Anyway, birthday number gosh what the heck is it now, something something prime it is. Time to walk across the park, singing at the top of my lungs, "IT'S MY BIRTHDAY, HAPPY BIRTHDAY! HAPPY HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME. LET'S GO!" while waving a box of cupcakes around.

Again, tradition. You can't break from a tradition this good.

Shame is a heavy burden. It can lighten only when brought to the light.

The worst shame is the one you carry alone, even when your friends and those who support you already know what you are going to say. The worst shame is the one you never needed to carry in the first place.

Tonight, Kris and I had a very similar talk that Andy and I had had on Sunday night. I told him what I had been doing for the last eight years. I filled in gaps when he asked questions, which wasn't often but also wasn't zero. He told me that, yeah, he knew much of what I told him. He asked what was going to happen going forward.

The irony of the timing was not lost on me, but I told him the best I could predict and commit to. I let him know that unless he tells me otherwise, our plans after Vinson are the plans as I understand them.

I went to the doctor today for my annual physical. I have to say, our medical system is really not conducive to receiving care quickly.

Today's appointment was for referrals for the doctors I actually want to see. While I am happy that I was able to schedule all the tests that I wanted, and receive all the referrals that I also wanted, I'm less happy that it is colonoscopy time. When asked, "Do I want a referral [for the colonoscopy]?" my answer was "No, I don't want one, but I understand that I need one, so yes, I will take a referral." The provider laughed.