Sunday again, my old foe. I’ve wasted so much of it and I’m not even sorry. Yes, I am, but I’m trying not to be. It’s not my fault. Sundays make it hard to be productive by being so nice in themselves but being so close to Monday that they are resented for the association.
So, I tried, and only half failed so I’m not mad. The day is simply set up for failure.
But tomorrow will be different, I hope. I already know I won’t have as much time to myself as I need but I’m promising to do good work nonetheless. I’ll muster all the enthusiasm it takes and be sure to save a little over so that when the work is done there’ll be something left for me.
Considering the number of drinks I had last night I’m doing surprisingly well this morning. I’m up late, sure, but I’m up. The headache is minor but my limbs are very sore. That has nothing to do with the drinks and instead everything to do with the children left in my charge last night. They were heavy and wild, jumping into my arms and running me ragged through the night.
There was plenty of dancing too, which I think is why my feet hurt so much, but I’m not complaining. It was worth it to be last on the dance floor with my sisters. We were carefree, sipping our last drinks and requesting all of our favorites. It devastated us that the party had to end, but I’m making a mental note for my own wedding this summer that there must be an after party planned for those who want to hold on to the night just a little longer.
We said goodbye to my sister and her kids this morning after brunch. I’m glad we got just a little more time together, but I’m always sad to see them go. Life is better when we are all together, but I understand why they needed to move away. They needed to see a new place and to find independence. They wanted to start a new life, not just for them but for their kids, and their kids’ kids, and for generations to come.
I envy them; I disagree with them, but most of all I just miss them.
Today is the big day! Not our big day, but my brother’s and I couldn’t be happier, more excited, or more stressed out for him.
I’m spending the morning with my mother, my sister who flew in from Texas and her kids. Our other sister is a bridesmaid, so she is with the wedding party and my fiance is the photographer and is documenting the happy couple as they get ready.
I’m tired and anxious, ready to get to the ceremony and ready to get through the night. Being the sister of the groom is a weird position. You’re important, but your role is less than if you were the sister of the bride.
I don’t know what my role is, but I’m desperate to find one, to be useful and to stay busy.
We’ve come to the end of a beautiful night. I had much more fun than I expected to and this is the first wedding that I can honestly say I was sad to see it end though; I hope it won’t be the last. It was beautiful, but it wasn’t mine.
That isn’t to say mine will be better, because I don’t think it will, but it will be mine and sometimes we love something more for our possession of it alone.
I’m stressed, exhausted and irritable today, but I’m also feeling so, so happy too.
My doctor did call to yell at me as I expected she would when I set up the appointment yesterday. At the same time, she was professional and compassionate. She’s worried, but she also cares. We’re moving forward and I have more blood tests to do and a new schedule for future ones.
My sister flew into town last night, which is why I am both exhausted and happy. I was out later than I should have been to be with her, her kids, our other sister, and my mom. We had fun. We always do when we are together, but it’s more than that. Sisters, no matter how difficult or annoying they are, or how different they are from you, they know you. They might not always get you but they know you better than anyone.
They live their lives beside yours, for all of their lives if not all of yours. It’s a gift too many of us squander and I am determined not just to be grateful for them, but to give them a reason to be grateful for me in return.
I still had to get up early this morning for work, which explains the irritability, but I’m trying my best to keep my spirits up. I’m off tomorrow for my brother’s wedding and after that, I’ll have one less thing to stress about while I stress about all the other things I have to do.
Why, oh why, does the United States health care system have to be so damn complicated!
The IBD nurse called to schedule a time for a phone appointment with my Gastroenterologist tomorrow. I’m positive she wants to yell at me for not getting my shit together and taking too long to enroll in the financial assistance program through the drug company so I can start my new medication.
The thing is, I actually had my shit together this time…mostly. I was only dragging my feet for like, a week! The rest of the time I was waiting for the cost analysis from the insurance company, then trying to figure out which financial assistance program to apply for, then reapplying after I applied for the wrong one, then having them explain to me that the one I am approved for is a special one that is extra complicated for no reason other than because I have my insurance provider likes to make things complicated, then, after I was finally approved, having them try to explain to me how it works, twice!
Now I’m enrolled in a program I barely understand and still cannot use for another 7 to 10 business days while a wait for a welcome packet in the mail and somehow, it’s my fault this is taking so long?
And that is just the tip of the healthcare iceberg. Choosing an insurance provider in the first place was complicated. Getting a diagnosis was complicated. All the blood tests and side effects are complicated. Keeping myself well is complicated. Choosing, starting, and switching medications is complicated. It shouldn’t be this damn complicated!
All this, I am convinced, is only further complicating the condition all this complication I am going through is supposed to treat!
I can’t wait to get through this week! I’m looking forward to the weekend when all this will be over and I can once again concentrate on my own problems, plans, and worries.
…I’m always trying to just get through. I’m trying to get through this task, this day, this week, this event or this worry. I imagine when it’s over everything will be easier, but the truth is it won’t. There will always be another hard task, day, week, event, or worry. The truth is all those tasks, and days, and weeks, and events, and worries are what life is made of and I shouldn’t wish it all away so easily.
Sometimes our offers of help are rejected and our best-laid plans swept entirely aside. Sometimes we know that we know best but all efforts to convince anyone are in vain. We’re forced to swallow our pride and allow others to take the lead. We’re forced to follow a path we know leads to failure and to follow it with enthusiasm, energy, cheerfulness, and camaraderie.
It’s absolutely awful, and it’s life.
But then again, with our pride pushed firmly aside we might be able to see the silver lining. We might be able to see that what we’d tried to control wasn’t ours to control in the first place and holding onto it only keeps us from what is ours to direct and command. Let someone else take this burden. Release yourself from the stress and do only, think only, care only for what we have to, then go home to what belongs to you alone.
I have a hard time letting go of Sundays. I don’t want to go to bed because I don’t want the week to begin.
I want every day to be like this and every Sunday. I want all my days to be for taking care of me and for taking care of my home. I want to get up early drink coffee all day, tidy up, read, write, watch a movie, take a nap and go to bed late every day and night of my life!
I can see the snow starting to fall from our big living room window and all my ladies are sleeping around me. My girlfriend is stretched out to left on the couch, the dog is at my feet and the cat is snoring in her tower to the right. The TV is quiet, my girlfriend having nodded off before she could choose a movie, and for the moment, life is peaceful.
I hope for the same peace tomorrow when there will be more snow and nothing calling us up and out of the house. I wish I could have it every day forever, but soon there will be work and a lot of work and family obligations to get in the way. That’s why I mark these moments when I can. I hold them in my heart and pull them out on whenever I’m overwhelmed or anxious.
This kind of peace, I have to remind myself, does exist and I will always be able to find it again.
I don’t want to fill this place with more complaints and curmudgeonry so I’ll simply say that I’m grateful for the problems I do have because they are proof of my privilege. I’m grateful to have a job and the respect and consideration of my coworkers. I’m happy to have a home that needs cleaning, friends and family to be obligated to, and a relationship that requires time, patience, compromise, and understanding.
I’m grateful for my problems, and for Fridays, that revitalizing light at the end of the tunnel I need to push on toward the weekend.