A prompt: Write like a normal blogger. Tell us about your week.
My weeks are never a secret, but I have trouble remembering where they started and ended, and if. The calendar on my computer starts at Sunday, so I will too.
On Sunday, my big sister coordinated things and drove down, so that I could see Mamasaur. We had breakfast in a restaurant colder than a reindeer hoof, and talked about normal things like mercury poisoning, egg shortages, and the dark history of mental health asylums in the US. We visited the gnome home and my sister helped me clean it up. It’s long neglected, as I’ve had a month or so where things have been too hectic to even stop by. I don’t like to see it like that, but there was something warm about watching my sister help me clear vines and dust, off a thing I love, using her hands.
I ordered carefully at the freezer-box restaurant because I recently had a small throat biopsy. The small fires I fought have wreaked a sort of vengeance on my throat, but by Monday we knew for sure it was not cancerous. It is not in great condition, but not-cancerous means it’s a low priority and I was able to start on the current high priority issue.
Simply, my brain isn’t doing as well as I’d like.
It’s a step backwards from all the stroke recovery. Or, more than a step, I suppose. More like a very dramatic back flip into a pool. It’s caused a splash.
There was a birthday party on Monday night, and I really should not have gone given all the events, but I made a promise.
Lately I’ve thought a lot about what I’d like to be if I were to end like a week. I’d like to be someone who keeps their promises. I’d like to be someone who helps blow up balloons. I’d like to be Rarasaur, and that’s why I am once again doing NanoPoblano.
It started officially on Tuesday and it’s been a bit of a slap-dash production because of everything else going on. In the facebook group, I warned the Peppers I’d be doing my best, and that my best would be pretty mediocre. I started this month a little behind, but showered with love and support.
(I took real showers, too, but that’s not the sort of thing that ever goes in anyone’s summary.)
Somewhere in this time frame was all the hoopla over the sexual assault claims call. I was surprised by a panic attack. I have so few now.
Wednesday was a long work day, with over 6 hours of zooms that required a little too much from my throat. I’ve healed alright, but pushing it is pushing it. Everything was unavoidable. The department I lead had its year-end deep dive that day, and I had a dozen pages to walk through. It’s been a long year of development and it was gratifying to present the successful results of my work, and to see my colleague recognized for hers.
To tell the truth, I don’t much remember Thursday. All that overdoing caught up and I made it through NanoPoblano by pulling up a draft I started in September and tearing it to pieces. The Rarasaur 100 posts are so challenging normally. This was the first time the restriction saved me. I needed sleep, but I needed to be Rarasaur, but I needed to rest my brain, but I needed to write…
Sometimes needs conflict. When I have a decision to make, I try to err on the side of dinosaur.
Friday I celebrated the non-cancerous results by traveling up to Los Angeles and buying an Andre the Giant hoodie that I’ve wanted for a very very long time. My roommate drove me, and we stopped at a deli, and the matzo ball soup warmed me from the long drive in his little red open-door Jeep. Work was chaotic. Small fires popped up everywhere, and it seems I will always be caught running into the fight.
I roasted a whole chicken. I made biscuits.
(I had planned to roast the chicken on Thursday, but I spent the day defrosting it in the sink only to realize too late that I was defrosting a bag of ice, not a chicken. I checked on it too many times not to notice, but this is the way of things when your brain is freckled on the inside.)
My shoulder dislocated that night, which it does when things get stressful. I know. Doctors have said it, and so can you. Stress cannot make your shoulders pop out, but I promise you that I live in this body and I know its creaks and fooleries. I popped it right back in, like always, but it doesn’t quite feel right this time.
It’s a problem for another day. Not today.
Today I went to Popcorn World, a local shop, and tried a handful of their flavors that number in the hundreds. The pizza popcorn was surprisingly good, surprisingly accurate. Inspired by the flavor range, I popped by another local favorite, Fluffy’s Snowballs. I had an horchata snowball, because I love snowballs with my whole heart but food dye can upset me. I have to pick from the flavors that look clear. I like the man who owns this place. He’s hopeful and I think a thing like that is a little contagious.
I watched Enola Holmes 2, finally, because I watch any variation of anything about Sherlock Holmes. I lost track of time. I did not start this until after 11pm, so I decided to use a prompt that I received ages ago from my anonymous question link (https://ngl.link/rarasaur/). I used to answer them on Instagram, but that was before my brain needed a rest from socials. You can still fill it out. Prompts, questions, or statements are all welcome. I’ll use what I can this month.
I’ll do what I can this month.
Did I tell you that my hair looks a wreck? It is growing out in every possible unexpected way. This week, I’ve let it be what it needs to be. No judgement, or hiding, or fixing.
We’re all allowed a little mess sometimes.
After midnight updates: I know this wasn’t a blogger who left this prompt because there’s no such thing as a normal blogger. 🙂 But, to those who do this regularly — kudos and congrats and hats off– because it’s really hard. I think if I were to do this again, I’d live my week a little more consciously so I could reflect and prioritize better.