Tag Archives: well being

Today is August 17, 2014. I am alive and fairly well.

I had to inch my way out of bed this morning. I don’t know if I’m depressed or just exhausted. It is hot in Scottsdale, Arizona. The weather can’t catch me. I’m almost always in doors or in my nicely air conditioned Forerunner.

I had no idea that kittens’ tongues are like sand paper. Grams has taken it upon herself to wash my face in the middle of the night. This cute behavior I no longer care for. Placing my hand over my face does not deter her. Eventually, I fall back asleep…

I am out of bed like a bubble escaping its wand. Only I don’t pop; rather, I fall onto the couch, gracefully of course, robe wrapped awkwardly around me and hair wild with night, to watch SuperSoul Sunday on the Oprah Network. It amazes me the amount of money her guests make with God loving them. I do respect the guests’ charisma for lighting up a room and offering people the opportunity to welcome in light.

Have I welcomed light today? I believe so. It’s simple; I smile at Grams and Annie and smooth their hair. My body is moving by feet, not inches. God has blessed me with another day of sobriety. I look forward to eating my bagel with butter and orange marmalade. Today, I will tell at least two people that I love them. And I will bury the plant that I killed. Compost for the earth. I promise God I will not bring home another plant.

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Today is August 8, 2014. I am alive and well.

I realized that my last blog, i was not well. Out of habit, I typed well. Today I am truly well.

A man approached me in the library. He was a scraggle of someone else. His pants barely circling his hips. Skinny arms reached through sleeves the circumference of donuts. I imagined his lanky hand slipping the one misplaced strand of hair behind his ear which was a lighter black than the color of his neck. Maybe he hadn’t bathed. He wanted to know where the adult movie section was. I thought, he didn’t just ask me that, did he? I said, “do you mean pornography?” “Yes,” he says with no apology, no hesitation like the sock that hangs loose at his ankle. I tell him we don’t have porno here. He asks me where he can find some. What attracted such a man to me? Maybe he liked the way I was tall and could see over crowds. “I don’t know where you find porn,” I say. He thanks me, leaving me with judgement. I don’t like the way he walks.