A Crocus From My Son

But what makes me happiest is that on my kid's walk home from school he saw something that made him think of me and brought this little token of thought to me.  I never stop loving the bits of earth, rock, nature, and sweetness he brings to me in handfuls and pockets.  Most people never experience his sweet side and don't know he has one.

I really need to shave my legs today but I'm thinking that might use up too much of my very small reserves of energy.  What if I could get one of my fruit trees planted with that energy?  Wouldn't that be more valuable than freshly shaven legs? 

Or I could make some soup.  We need to have food and Philip is coming down with a fresh cold so I could use my energy to make some very good soup.

Or I could walk the dog.

One thing's for sure: I can't do more than one thing today before I will find myself prostrate on the guest bed where I've been keeping my feverish sweaty nasty self.  At least Philip hasn't gotten the flu yet.  I really hope he doesn't.

I finally admitted to myself that there's no way I can afford to go to the Blogher convention this summer.  Not even if I worked extra hours.  Anyway, every time I get a couple hours ahead of the game I go and get sick and lose a shift to fever.  The hardest part of being poor with no credit cards to your name is not being able to fool yourself about what you can and can't afford.  If I had a card I would have probably just charged the airfare and prayed I could save enough for the rest of the trip.

The truth is, I can probably pick up a few shifts here and there and make enough money to: send Philip to the psychologist for an assessment and a few sessions of therapy we cannot otherwise afford.  Or I can afford to add valuable things to my garden like more beds, fruiting shrubs, and structures for growing things on.  Or I can afford to send my kid to a camp or two this summer without which I will otherwise need to have money for qualudes*.

We are too poor for me to take a vacation that costs so much.  I'll have to start saving now for the 2010 convention which will hopefully be closer to home.

It makes me sad.  But that's just how it is.

In other news- I have lost 9 pounds since being sick.

That brings me back down to where I started at the beginning of the year.  Almost.  Most people might be depressed to start out the year with great intentions to lose weight only to gain over ten pounds.  Losing 9 might not seem like such an accomplishment.  It's not, since it was mostly lost because I haven't been drinking as much (obviously) or eating as much.  That pint of Ben and Jerry's icecream happened a long time ago now.  My appetite hasn't been very large.

I had actually already lost 2 or 3 pounds before getting sick- due to my puny efforts.

But surprisingly, I'm not depressed about my weight.  I mean, not more than usual.  Not in any particularly violent way.

It's time to be off.  Off in slow motion.  Off to attempt to bypass the bed for a more productive spot in the house.  I hope you are all having a great week.  And remember: if you joke at me i probably won't get it about 50% of the time.  So just shrug my earnest uncomprehending answers off.

Best advice for this week: If you're not an exhibitionist, don't get caught with your pants down.

*I love the word qualudes.  I never came across them back when I might have been willing to try them out.  To me it is like the gold standard of the stupifying drugs and is a throwback to my parents' era of drug using.  Like tie-dye it never goes out of my vernacular though I would hardly want it near my body.