I woke to find treasures. From Instagram came this, straight from Modzy 360 who wrote:
He: Sometimes you just have to close your eyes, count to ten, take a deep breath and remind yourself that you would not look good in prison stripes and just smile at that dumb ass and walk away.
Me: I sometimes think you read my mind! There is someone I am thinking of in those terms.
There actually is but the individual shall remain nameless, in part because of Modzy 36 and in part due to the interventions of David, who sent some pithy messages and then CPI who turned about my thinking on another matter. I do so appreciate my smart friends and I have so many. People marvel at my good naturedness and positivity – I owe it to them, as they make me laugh, distract me from pettiness and give me perceptive. I am so blessed. One must pity those in ‘command’, perhaps even including Donald Trump – people who feel they have to accomplish something, make a lot of money, impact the world in some meaningful way. It is good to be free of those ambitions.
But pithy is the word of the day. It means terse and vigorously expressive. Used in a sentence: Her characteristically pithy comments. It is absolutely strange the way words just pop into my head and then prove to be exactly correct. Such a strange gift and one quite recently attained. It is not work, it comes natural, it is fun, I am grateful.
Yesterday was a rather peculiar day, some of the highlights shall be mentioned:
1 Becoming radioactive. Yes, it is dirty work but somebody has to do it. In order to achieve that state of nirvana it was necessary to abstain from caffeine. The conclusion of the test brought the reward of coffee, it never tasted so good. The condition of radioactivity was occasioned by the testing of my heart to be sure I could get through the knee replacement surgery. It is impossible for me to do a standard stress test on the treadmill because of the knee – so this alternative device had to be found. I was once radioactive in Vancouver for an entire week. It was during my Trump International Hotel and Tower days and so there were many, many jokes – all contained in the blog. If you type radioactive in the search engine the blog of August 23, 2017 jumps up and you will laugh. Well I did anyway. So I have not been radioactive in two years – some people do not get to experience this their whole lives.
2 Two immense compliments of a different nature. A woman in a Town Centre store recognized me from a previous visit (months ago) told me I was looking great. I was actually feeling scruffy, so this was a true gift. Another compliment, a professional with the nickname of Wise Man, has began reading my blogs and told me that I was an excellent write, that my words flow. It is impossible to describe the feeling of joy that brought – to be recognized, to be seen by someone who you admire greatly. Goodness knows I work at this but writing does come easy to me. I do not have writer’s block, I have writer’s diarrheal
3 I spoke to a man who had knee surgery a mere two weeks ago and he was walking about. His advice: do the physical therapy and take the drugs to eliminate the pain\ Me: Yes Sir! Particularly the drug part, pain makes no sense at all. All of the people at the medical centre were so professional, so welcoming, so courteous. Many pictures of my heart were taken but it was rather relaxing with jazz playing in the background.
4 The stupid bridge on Bon Air Road is finally open so the horrible inconvenience is over. Getting around in this fair county is now possible.
Reading the blog of August 23, 2017 was so telling. The cheerfulness of it all and the jokes and laughter. It was impressive as my memories of that time are anything but cheerful. Massive concern for my health, the rejection by a man (in my hour of need) that I desperately wanted in my life, those are the things remembered now. Hardly any of the people in that day’s account are in my life any longer. But it seems, reading that blog, that I bought joy and happiness to many people’s lives. My sense of humour is such a gift – it is an inherited trait, straight from my abusive parents to me. Such a gift.
Today is my last day in Marin, then back home to the City for a couple of days and then back here for the surgery. Saturday is going to be a big day – a dear friend from Vancouver is coming to be with me during the early days of my recuperation. I am truly blessed.
What are today’s tasks? A trip to the storage facility where my possessions have sat for the past five years. I Have Got Junk has been called and things will be thrown out. When I left five years ago it was with the intent of returning at the end of the London student visa. But then it was Vancouver and now it is San Francisco. I shall never return. The Marin Chapter of my life is closed. It is with relief that I will throw stuff away, stuff once viewed as important. Then a new hair do, Kim being my new person. The two of us have so much in common actually. Then at the end of the day an appointment with my surgeon. It is happening. I am so grateful. I want my mobility back.
The photograph is of my socks, a gift from the dear friend from Vancouver who is coming to help take care of me. Then some of the funny pithy sayings sent from David.
