When the door slammed I knew without opening my eyes what that meant. The lack of a sweet good-bye kiss and this note were confirmation. This was my morning note:
I am pissed. I have had enough of this f-ing shit. I am tired of the goddamn bag and all of that bull-shit. I want someone’s head on a plate.
Couldn’t have a nice morning thinking about making beer and trying to wake up. No! F-ing bag had to break – shit everywhere – PJ’s, counter top, floor and I am still angry.
Still hung over from sleep or lack of it. God I am a wreck right now. I hope I am better when I get home. I will work on it but god f-ing dammit I am mad. I don’t want this shit anymore, any of it, none, nada. I just want to be normal again – a normal life back, a normal existence. Why can’t I have that again? I know why.
I had a cup of coffee and made a pineapple upside down cake. Comfort food that I hope will help Mike, though I doubt it. It’s very Northern Minnesotan of me to try to fix emotions with food. What else is there to do? I echo his sentiments though probably without such force.
This is hard. It’s hard on Mike. It’s emotionally draining and I wonder how we bear up to the rest of this. I wonder how anyone does. This is the kind of thing that has been going on in our house since May; this up and down roller coaster of fear, anxiety, frustration and stress. We carve out little moments of fun here and there but in the back of our minds we know we are on the coaster. The end of this run comes when the chemo is done and the port comes out and that is several weeks away.
I’m anxious about Mike coming home. I don’t know what he is going to bring with him, hell I never know. There are things I should be doing like cleaning or finishing up that last pair of mukluks but my mind isn’t here it’s on that note. I’m having great difficulty being present. Today, I want to run. I want a vacation. I want to put down this pack and kick it to pieces except I’m still going to need what’s inside for the rest of this trip.
But there is pineapple upside down cake. A fitting subconscious metaphor I guess.
Peace,
Karen
1 comment:
oooh. How does one respond to something like this? I'd have been pissed much sooner than Mike, my temper is very short. I sure hope your pineapple upside down cake made him feel as good when he got home as it did you while you're were making it for him.
Your knitting is beautiful...
would love to learn the socks from you.
Wish we could take your places some of the time to give you a break!
Love to you both! Becker's Mom
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