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Boy, Do I Have A Story!

My story is complicated and most times, I wonder how my mind really works. I leave post it notes to myself or voice recordings on my phone with suggestions for blog posts or random thoughts that come to my head.  I’d like to share with you all a glimpse into my psyche by just listing some of the recordings I have found on my phone and post it notes attached to my desk.

Don’t judge.  I know you all have some hidden thoughts or ideas that maybe never come to fruition. Things that come to mind in the shower, or right before you fall asleep at night. Some of my best thoughts are when I am driving. None-the-less, here we go:

May 13, 2017–  I randomly recorded birds chirping for almost 4 minutes. I have no idea why nor did I find the recording inspiring, motivating or relaxing.

November 14, 2017– After a routine visit to my urologist, Dr. Chang, it was determined I am in a good place and no longer need follow up. He looked at me and said, “I think we can stop annual visits and just call me if you have any problems.”  Great you think, right?  Oh no.  I am Italian and genetically wired such that his statement is an invitation to the bad luck Gods to send me some type of tumor or disease.

I calmly looked at him and said, “I am Italian.  I don’t know about your people, but my people would kill me if I did not keep these regular appointments.” And so, we agreed to check in every other year.

November 16, 2017– “Remember mom?” I hear this at least 4 times a day from my kids.  A package comes to the house with yet another University of Alabama article of clothing for Jack.   Inquiring why this has appeared on my doorstep, I am confronted with, “Remember Mom?  You said I could order this.” Or I am sitting here waiting for Jack to come home for dinner and I find him on the other side of the Hudson at a friend’s house.  “Remember Mom?  I told you I was out for dinner tonight.”

Are they messing with me and taking advantage of my menopausal mind?  I think YES.

December 5, 2017–  Cemetery visit.  I recorded a thought I had after leaving the cemetery.  My grandmother Amelia is buried in a cemetery that I pass every time I take Izzy to the vet and every time, I stop and absorb some peace from sitting there and talking to her. My recording mentions a feeling of calm and strength.  I find it odd that one can gather that from the aura of a loved one that is no longer among us.

December 8, 2017– I must have been thinking of Christmas gifts and things you need, and I came up with this list:

  • Hope- Hope I don’t burn my ear again with the flat iron.
  • Faith- Faith that as parents for the first 18 years of their lives, we instilled in them the values they will need to be successful as human beings.
  • Charity- I paid it forward at Dunkin Donuts that morning to the guy behind me. I hope he did the same.

There it is in a nutshell.  But the fun doesn’t stop there… I am off to look in my email folders for clues on where I hid this year’s Christmas gifts and begin the horrific task of wrapping.  I owe a huge thank you to the God/Goddess who invented the gift bag. Johnny Mathis is playing on my iPad and I have a lovely Starbucks tea at my ready.

Merry Christmas.

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