Holiday Aftermath

I don't even know where to begin for this post. I've started it about a dozen times over the past few months and a dozen more the last day or so. Every time being deleted because I sound like a hormonal 40 year old woman who has nothing better to do except sit around and be pissed off at the world. Which, in essence, is exactly what I've been.

I have no year in photos because I think I stopped taking any about 6 months ago. I feel as if my whole life has stopped. Like I'm waiting. But I can't figure out what for. It's that whole being in limbo thing that I know I've talked about on here previously. But it goes beyond that and as clearly as I can feel what I'm feeling, I have no words for what it is I have been feeling.

Don't fret. The Crazy Cat Lady is very much A-OKAY. Well... aside from having the flu for the last eight or nine days, 5 or 6 of those so far spent with NO voice. Oh boy I was sick.

My holidays, which include Christmas, my birthday and New Year's Day, were memorable for reasons other than family and fun. I got a few hours of family time on Christmas day before I had to work a 12 hour shift that night. I got off work, came home and wished bad things on whoever it was that had come and beat me with a baseball bat. Made it to the doctor that next Monday and started the healing drugs. Don't remember much about those first few days except true misery, loneliness and pain. I've never been one to cry lonely, but being that sick I can truly say I experienced it. Waking up with 102 fever, my throat burning and raw from coughing, how I wished for someone to ask for a glass of water from and for them to just tell me everything was going to be alright.

Last Thursday morning, I think?, at 4:30am, I heard a crash in the back of my house. I was already awake. My first thought was, "What the heck did the cats trash now?" Then I noticed all four of them standing with me looking down the hallway. I found that half of the ceiling in my back room had dislodged it's self from where it had been for the last 70 years and was now scattered on the floor covering cat box central. As I was standing there in shock I heard a creaking noise and I quickly backed out of the room as even more came down and glass started breaking. The wind is what had awaken me around 2am.

I had been sick for about seven days at this point. My hormones, well... they started going haywire right around Christmas Eve. I can always tell when they are off when I get offered a Xanax by loved ones. So after about a 15 minute breakdown, I realized my kitties had no where to potty and I SURE wasn't up to cleaning that mess any time soon. So I got my sick butt dressed and off to Wal-Mart I went. New box, new litter, new location in the house. Sure glad my kitties are smart.

The old saying is, 'misery loves company', and I have always found this to be true for most, but not for me. My misery loves solitude. A perfect recipe for depression, I know. I'm still in denial about that, and I do have those that I talk to... when I can talk but I still can't find it in myself to share a lot of my not so cheery self here in the wide wacky web. Sure, I'll bitch about stuff and have and I'm sure to do more! You understand what I'm saying, right?

So I have this blog and I just can't seem to let it go. It's like the hoarder that can't get rid of that 25 cent broken toaster... along with the petrified bread crumbs that have been in it since 1963. I know the moment I do I'm going to regret it. So I don't. Then I'm not here and people stop coming... oh, don't apologize! I do the same thing to other blogs. I get bored with what they have to say, or they are never there and I just take them off my list. It is the life of most blogs, I'm sure. I have one or two that I still read that inspired me to be here in the first place.

In the spirit of the New Year 2011 (I was in bed by 8 that night) my one and only "resolution" is to pay more attention to my blog because I like being here. Being here makes me happy. Getting comments makes me smile. This may be the most I talk all year, or maybe not. But I will be sharing some of me. In some digital form or another. It's not too much of a change from what I've been doing lately, just more often. (crossing fingers)

The ceiling is in the process of insurance claims and emptying the room for future repair. While we wait, the Crazy house will be a mess and there will be a big giant opening into the attic space of my house from whence I'm still hearing critters having relay races up there. The door is remaining shut. At least is wasn't my butt that made this hole. I won't even go into the asbestos box that I live in.

Happy New Year, ya'll.