Bad Burrito

So much for writing when things are good. When things are good, I'm out in it. Today I am a snail with salt sprinkled on it. The only reason I'm writing is so I don't go to bed yet, it's not sundown. My head is exploding in pain, I have several headaches.

Today I sat in weak sun amidst intermittent wind swirls. The birdies now know that I'm serving, they are so cute. The little birdies reveal their level of comfort already by how close they come. I hope the hummingbirds come back, they don't see my Open sign. The first day I moved in an Anna's Hummingbird gave me a long scan, I got Google-mapped hummingbird style. It also cruised the pink hanging glass candle holder. I rushed to fill my feeder with homemade sugar juice (uh 2 weeks later) so where are they?

I had plans to see a friend but unless someone is coming to massage my feet, spoon feed me, lightly play with my hair and not talk, I can't hang. That has never actually happened, so I have to turn people away. It's hard to know what to do to help someone in a low like this. Listening to someone talk is asking for energy I don't have. Not only do I not have enough for anyone else, I don't have enough for me. When I feel like this, it's hard to imagine being better.

It's my habit to turn people away but at the same time I fantasize about someone stepping in to take over. People seem very confused as to what to do or how to help. The perfect support person would be a cancer survivor who is also a nurse. Nurses know how to step in. Thank you, nurse community.

After PT for my shoulder I sat waiting for a car service that should have taken 1 hour, but took 3. During the wait, I ate poisoned food. They took money off the service but the damage was done. In that time I got cold to the point of shivering and my BP dropped. It still surprises me that I can get so jacked up. I used to run circles around people, I had boundless energy. I was manic, almost, in my habit of pushing the physical limitations of my body and sleep deprivation. I never wanted to sleep, just stay asleep once there. I ignored pain, and exhaustion. Now, I get my ass kicked by one long day. And a fucking burrito.

I know this will change. But this is so hard without soup. I don't have any soup. Soup heals all ails. If there were a soup delivery service, they would know the name Kleczko. They would be like: Will you be ordering the usual today, homemade chicken noodle soup, Polish grandma style? Yes. Extra noodles. I miss you Regina, you teeny tiny person who survived WWII with 2 small kids and no husband, supporting the family even. Where is that strength in me right now? I know it's in there. I see you.