Low Places

I just don’t know, Reader.

I mean, anything.

My Cantankerous Older Friend keeps telling me I need to “make a plan.”

While I don’t disagree with the effects of plan-making, I also don’t know what sort of a plan I need to make.

I woke up this morning back in my Minute House in Florida, and the sunlight was streaming in through my window and streaming across the bed, and I could see the bluest of skies outside and it was glorious and made me want to toss off my covers and jump out of bed and GREET THE DAY, which is exactly what I did, but not until 10 a.m.

I’ve been back in Florida for four days now, and I haven’t slept soundly in over a week, so when the sleeps was welcoming me this morning I said Yes to the Dress, wherein the dress in this case was my pillow.

I don’t know why I don’t sleep well sometimes. Well, actually, I do know why. I have a lot of the Worries that toss and turn me, and run around like they own my brain and it’s frankly unwelcomed advances and maybe they’ve listened to Bill Cosby’s methods and they just drug me and have their way with me until the wee hours of the morning, when I’m finally able to sleep out of sheer exhaustion.

Let me just go on the record as saying, it is hard to think creatively at all when I’m sleep deprived. I muddled through the week, and matters were not made better when I agreed to spend the night at My Cantankerous Friend’s house on Thursday.

We had a girl’s night out planned, and she lives a hop-skip-and-a-jump to my workplace, and spending the night vs. a 40 minute drive home and then back at it a few short hours later, well, it just made good sense to spend the night, plus it was a girl’s night so extra bonus points.

The night was fun enough, but the daybed had a hard bar in the center, which of course hit me right at my tweaked-out hip area and so there was a lot of discomforts going on. And it was low to the floor, and when I awoke at 2 a.m. for my clockwork pee, the bed was so low, and my knees were so not participating in their job of bending, and I didn’t know how I was going to get up. I literally – LITERALLY – spent a good five minutes trying to work my way around, first on my back and then flopping onto my stomach and trying to push myself up, but I could not gain any purchase on anything to hoist myself either front or back, and finally just gave up and figured that this daybed was just where I lived now.

I had resigned myself to this being just where I lived now. Trapped in a low daybed.

Her cat came in and licked my chin for a while, and then that must have bolstered my courage to try again, and do I did, and somehow channeling the strength of Jaime Sommers, I managed to hoist up and go pee.

And this, Reader, is basically how my life is going right now.

I somehow bolster the strength, hoist up and keep trying again.

I don’t know what I’m going to do from one day to the next. Am I going back to Dreary Cleveland?? The happy parts of Dreary Cleveland are my peoples, my house and my comforts, which does a lot to offset the drearies.

But then Florida!

Delivers an absolutely stunning Florida day, and why the hell would I go back to grey skies?? I ran errands today with a smile just spread across my face, sipping water and feeling like there was NOTHING I couldn’t accomplish in life. Unless a low daybed is involved, and then my accomplishments are in question.

Reader. I spent this morning reading and writing in a mindfulness journal today, and shopping at the Goodwill for some items for My Cantankerous Friend – she repurposes old yucky things into beautiful new things, so I went scouting for those things to put in a birthday bag of goods for her for next week (which was super successful and cheap-o!) – and I felt really positive and basically in love with life today.

I don’t know where this story –  or my life – is going. I just know that it was a good day, and I keep trying. I hope the same goes for you, Reader.