Ellie

So, I've been trying to do daily vagus nerve exercises, and as I was doing them last night, I was reminded of the Saturday I dragged dad to Target and Wegman's. It was only the second weekend of us being in Massachusetts, the first full work week we spent apart in almost two months, and it was the weekend before Thanksgiving.

(I wasn't thinking, okay! Don't yell at me :((()

At Target, I wanted to get him some kitchen things like a garbage can and dish drying rack. Wegman's, I wanted to get stuff for Thanksgiving dinner. Wegman's wasn't a requirement, but it was in the same shopping center as Target, so it made sense to go there.

Except how I forgot it was the weekend before Thanksgiving. And also -- I didn't know this beforehand or I never would've gone in there -- their layout is unfathomably chaotic.

Also, for some cockamamie reason, I wanted dad to go in there and help with the shopping.

Needless to say, it was a disaster.

Target went okay, surprisingly. Perhaps because dad wasn't in their with me. But Wegman's was a nightmare. We didn't know where anything was, there were too many people, they didn't have the brands dad liked... I could go on and on. We ended up only getting half of what was on the list, and booked it before we lost our minds. Dad was so frazzled, I made him let me drive us back to his apartment.

Once we were back, it took me two trips to unload the car, and after making sure the perishables were put away, we both passed out for naps in our recliners. When I woke up, dad was futzing around trying to get the garbage can out of the box. He wasn't coordinated or stable enough to get the can out of the box by himself and so I rushed out of the chair to help, admonishing him all the way for not waking me up to help.

He didn't want my help, he said. He wanted to do something because I'd been taking care of everything. He should be able to take a garbage can out of a box and put a bag in it.

(I should explain it was a stainless steel-looking can with the pedal. Not exactly light as a feather.)

The next morning, he woke up with a pain in his back that he attributed to lifting the garbage can wrong. Eight days after that, he went into the hospital and never came out.

Now, I am not at all saying there is a direct correlation. But do I wish I could go back and change every single thing about that weekend? Hell fucking yes.

During my March off, one thing I was happy to (re?)discover was how good it feels to take care of myself. I say "re?" because I'm not sure if I ever knew, or if I simply forgot because I had to take a backseat for such a long time. Either way, I'd been doing the bare minimum for so long, that something as simple as lotioning up my legs felt indulgent.

I've been making an effort to keep up my weekly Sunday care routine, if nothing else, so I was reminded of this small joy today as I moisturized all over. It really is the little things sometimes.

After several days of lackluster attempts to find more affordable writing communities, I broke down and asked my fannish discord for assistance and boy did they come through. I actually started crying about it at first, because I mostly expected to be told to search for myself, or given search term suggestions, but no. There were links upon links.

Also, I started my period the next day, so *hands*

I haven't had a chance to look at anything as of yet, but I'm hoping to poke at one of the writing exercise links soon. There is never going to be a perfect time; I need to suck it the fuck up and do the damn thing.

I went to the monthly Boston brunch meet up yesterday for the first time in literal years. I felt more comfortable, I think, because I went with someone I've become friendlier with outside of the group discord. I also have a better knowledge of more people, thanks to the discord (the group was formed before discord was A Thing). Beyond being with people, it was a gorgeous day, especially down by the Seaport. I'm excited to go again.

Two things can be true at once: I recognize that I need and deserve rest, but I am sick of not getting out of bed until 10AM or 11AM on the weekends. A little balance is not too much to ask!

One of the fellows at work had a baby last summer and I knitted her an afghan as a gift. Since then, we've swapped txts back and forth about our crafting endeavors (mine more so than hers, since she's a mom and a doctor). Around Thanksgiving, she said she had a Christmas gift for me, but with the dad stuff, I was never around when she was, but she kept reminding me that she still had it.

Well I saw her last week finally and she gave me a book of small amigurumi patterns and they're so cute! They're broken down into various categories like in the garden and at the aquarium. I got so excited to do something non-Wooble that I started a narwhal. I just have to finish the fins and horn. The book is called Whimsical Stitches.