Sunday, August 17, 2008

Life Liquidation Sale.

More about that later - first, my plans for this week: No, seriously? At this moment, it appears there will be an interruption. Maybe Fay will turn. It happens. But right now, it looks like it will come straight up the I-4 corridor.

And as I look around at my life, the grave-robbing scene from Young Frankenstein keeps playing in my head:
Dr. Frederick Frankenstein: What a filthy job.
Igor: Could be worse.
Dr. Frederick Frankenstein: How?
Igor: Could be raining.
[it starts to pour]

I am tired and cranky and sick of my life. And Friday morning, in the shower, I had an epiphany. It really is true about the power of negative ions. Waterfalls are best, of course, but the shower can help sort out overwhelmed thought processes. Anyway, I have been spending a lot of time lately thinking about what I really want to do with my life. Because right now I feel like the Universe's bitch, and I don't think I survived the ruptured brain aneurysm to live the life I have now. And then I started thinking about the garage sale, and how more and more things keep getting added to the sale. It has gone from a sale to a bigass sale to a liquidation sale. I am ready to liquidate my life to the bare walls and start over. Start over where is still an open question, but getting rid of the stuff that ties me to this place is a satisfying way to start. So, Operation Life Liquidation Sale has commenced.

Well, okay, I'm not quite selling "to the bare walls," I will keep the things I actually use. But all of the "I might need that again someday" stuff - that's getting tagged. In fact, that is the mission for the day - another round of reviewing and tagging my possessions.

Yesterday I dropped Murphy at the groomer, started clearing out the assisted living apartment, rented storage space, deposited the first wave of stuff in unbearable heat and humidity, went to Publix, and did a couple of loads of laundry, and looked at the clock: it wasn't even noon yet. More cleaning, more errands, picked up Murphy, visited the hospital, cooked dinner - used a few of the frozen chicken breasts I had on hand, because if I lose power on Tuesday I will resent the loss of the frozen food the most. By 9 p.m. I was too tired to finish making the bed, and slept on the couch. I slept through Michael Phelps' 8th gold medal, and woke at 6:30 when Murphy Harrumphed and licked my arm.

My mother seemed quite a bit better yesterday - better enough to be back to complaining about everything. This is not a woman who ever just relaxes and goes with the flow - she's in this gorgeous hospital room with a 42 inch tv, and she refuses to turn it on. I finally turned it on anyway and we watched a rerun of Monk - she used to love Monk - but when I left she turned it off in a snit. How she lies there in that bed, awake, no music, no TV, no reading material, she refuses everything, she will just lie there stewing and feeling resentful about her condition - I can't imagine how this person is my mother. She did tell me about the lovely dessert at lunch - an edible chocolate cup with raspberry filling - but that was the only good thing she had to say about anything. Mostly she is silent. I made as much conversation as I could, then turned on the tv, because if I have to sit there in silence with her I'll go crazy too.

I sat for 2 hours and looked at it as quality knitting time. I did manage to be there when one of the doctors stopped by, he listened to her heart and her lungs and said she sounded okay, but didn't know when she'd be released - they did a sonogram of her heart yesterday and didn't have the results back yet. I'm betting she will be released today, or early tomorrow at the latest - otherwise they'll be releasing her into a tropical storm. Not that this is my problem; the nursing home will take care of transport and the like. This is why they get the big bucks. Meanwhile, I have a tropical storm/hurricane, whatever the hell Fay is supposed to be, to get ready for today, and I have to get it done before the daily heavy rain hits this afternoon.

Photos later. I swear. The drop stitch scarf is almost done, and of course, there are dogs. But I have to get the furniture off the patio before the caffeine coursing through my system quits working.


Bess said...

Sounds like a plan - get as light as possible - then you're ready to travel.

Hope the storm is useful but not destructive.

ellen said...

I understand the feeling of wanting to just run away - and I'm not surprised to hear that you are there. You're sure getting more than your fair share of "challenges". Good luck on your sale of the century.