Sitting in the sun, soaking up its rays. I am fighting walking pneumonia--it had been believed it was just vanilla bronchitis, but no such luck. It's bacterial pneumonia--thankfully I have the vaccine,--but what a bear it has been. My stubbornness, matched or perhaps surpassed only by my penchant for being alone, is legion. A friend ofine texted me the other day teasing me and calling me "Gone Girl" because of my summary disappearance from all socials (save LinkedIn). I have been absent. It is true. But, I am living.
As I sit here on my keister on the patio area at my house, it's hard to believe it's been almost 60 years since I emerged from the ether. Can't say there is much to brag about. I was killing it for much of my life, surprised, albeit happy with my lot.
It's hard to feel lonely when you are numb all the time. Not in a whaaaaa, I want my binky sort of way--Im not screaming or complaining about the lot I have drawn or the platform I have built under myself. But, I am ensconced here in my memories, missing my girls and the understanding of the life I once knew.
So, yes, I am journaling again. I am hoping that this fall will bring about the meaningful change that is needed. As I sit here in silent revery, the sun and the silence embracing me (old friends that they are), I never felt more at peace except than when I was a kid and would walk alone on my massive paper routes each morning between 4 a m. And 6:30 a.m.
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