Worries Rise with Every New Case

Good news, my daughter has been tested and she does not have the virus. I can be thankful for that.

I am worried, with the presumptive 2 cases now in San Jose del Cabo, that my chances of getting this virus has just gone up.  I’m worried about not just myself but my husband, my children, and my parents. I am greatly saddened that I may never see any of my family again, not my parents, not my siblings and not my children. I don’t want to get this virus here in this country.

I read this on the web… “Still it’s hard to know that someone you love is dying, but you cannot give them the only comfort you’d wish: your touch; a few loving words; your presence beside them as a kind of last thanks for all the times that they, as a parent or grandparent, brother or sister, stood beside you during the challenges and passages of life.”

On verge of tears a lot, my eyes well up, but I hold them back. I sometimes consider leaving this place whether he wants to come with me or not. However, those thoughts come at dark times, when I’m missing my family the most.

We went to town today. First to the bank, then the pharmacy and finally to El Sol 2. One of the workers at El Sol was sick and coughed – she was sniffling the last time we were there too – that freaked my husband out. We use hand sanitizer as soon as we get in the car. Hubby said he’s not going there again until we run out of supplies. Money is put into a baggie.

When we get home shoes are removed outside, clothes are taken off and placed in the washing machine, as is my purse and the shopping bag. We immediately take a shower. Then we wipe down our purchases with Clorox wipes, wipe down the door handles, spray our shoes with 70% rubbing alcohol and bring them inside.

I told my daughter she needs to go back to Canada. If I catch this there is a good chance I will die from it and she’d be stuck over there (southeast Asia) with no money. Her reply was she can get a job at the tattoo shop in Bali and return to China when she’s able to go back. Oh, to be young and have no fear. I actually had no fear of this virus until it hit Italy. When it arrived there, I knew it would spread to North America.

I face-timed with my parents today. Was nice to see their faces and talk with them. They are both in good spirits and healthy. I wish I lived near them so I could do their shopping. I worry about my mother as she is in the highest risk category (83, diabetes and heart disease). My father (86) still works part time 6 days a week and exercises every day. He could probably beat the illness if he were to get it.

coronavirus worries

Missing Cat


I am feeling sad today. My daughter had friends over yesterday while I was at work. Someone didn’t shut the door tightly and my beloved 12-year-old cat escaped. I posted his pic on the internet and someone found a Siamese cat last night almost 4km from my house. I think it is far for my old guy to travel but I am hopeful. They have the cat in their garage and I will go over when I get off work.

The Blues

the Blues

I don’t have a name for it.

It’s a feeling, instead.

It’s like a gremlin sitting on my chest, pushing the air out of me enough so that I can breathe in enough to stay alive, but not quite enough to get the feeling as though life is free and easy. I can picture this little gremlin – he’s green. Horns. Beady eyes. Pigeon-toed and knock-kneed.

I am very grateful for my life. Very, very grateful. I have the kind of life I never thought a loser like me would ever get to live. What I feel – and what I write here – is in no way a distraction from the degree of love I have for my life and those in it.

But I guess sometimes no matter how much time you spend sitting on a sofa, how much you stare inwardly at yourself through the shell you call your body, or how many tissues you cry your way through, sometimes the truth is there are those in the world who are prone to dark… to gremlins. Very rarely, I’ll get into a place where (gremlins again) I almost literally can’t talk. It’s as though it’s just too much effort to talk, to make conversation. It requires too much energy, too much spark, too much of something of which I am short of.

No matter how beautiful and full of light your life is, there can still be gremlins.

You wish things could change. You wish there could be peace and quiet in all parts of you. You wish people would stop demanding things of you in a way that make you feel like a tiny human being. You wish you would quit doubting that you could do those things people demand when you can, you fucking can. You wish time would either slow down or speed up but for Christ’s sake, stop just hanging out here. You wish you could reach out, be a better person. You wish you could be a better person. You wish you could just be better.

I still can’t sleep, and I’m tired all the time in a way that makes me feel as though I’m 80 years old.

I’m not stupid – I recognize this morning some of what’s going on. I got the blues, baby. I got the blues. Minor blues, it’s not major at all, just tinted that side of the spectrum.  Too long of a winter here in the North. A fight with my hubby that we still haven’t resolved. Combination of many things.

Nothing else to do but pull myself up and keep going, right? The body wears out but the mind keeps going. I need to paint myself in rainbow colors, and I need to start with the gremlin. I need to stop feeling dragged through life backwards, naked, upside down through a field of cactus. I was sitting there thinking that instead of living life, life is living me. Only that’s, you know, a stupid thing to say.

I’m not sure what I set out to say here, so I’m going to stop talking now.



Bad Day

Bad Day

Yesterday sucked.

I would go so far as to say that yesterday was a Fucking Bad Day.

I won’t go into the details of why yesterday was a Fucking Bad Day because I’m a professional and shall simply Get Over It (capitalization is my new conscience. It not only gives me direction but makes me feel empowered. Bear with me. Or maybe you should try it – it may just be Your Kind of Thing.) Fucking Bad Days happen and I know they do, it’s just sometimes they can be so relentless that you want to look at karma/Buddha/God/your lucky pet starfish and with raised eyebrows say “Really? I mean…really?”

 Yes. Yesterday was a Fucking Bad Day. I couldn’t shake it either. It stayed with me like the stench of death  or at least of hastily hidden tuna fish in the air vents of an enemy’s car (which may actually stink worse than death). It kept rolling at me too, in multitudes of ways – it just went on and on.

And to make matters worse, I still had to wake up this morning and face it all again, because That’s What Grown Ups Do.



I feel too much pain that I wish I could roar it out. I want to scream, in anger, in pain, in both hope and desperation. I want to destruct and cause chaos; I want my surrounding to look like how I feel inside… a broken mess. I feel utter hate, raw hate… I feel resentment… and pain, too much pain… it’s pressing up against the back of my neck making my headache a million times worse. I want to inflict the pain I feel, so I won’t feel it anymore. Let my wrath haunt you and make your life as miserable as you’ve made mine…

Guys Don’t Get Girls

If she doesn’t text you…

It’s because she’s waiting for you to text her.


When she walks away from you mad…

Follow her.


When she’s quiet…

Ask her what’s wrong.


When she ignores you…

Give her your attention.


When she pushes you away…

Pull her back.


When you see her crying…

Wipe her tears & ask what’s wrong.


When she says Go Away…

Just go close to her and give her a hug.

A Horrible Truth

Here you are – hurting, waiting, wanting for something to change. You ask yourself about a hundred times, is it something you said? Maybe. And then you ask yourself a thousand more times, is it something you did? Possibly.

Here you are – this question must have crossed your mind more than a million times. ‘Cause for the seventh or eighth or maybe even the ninth time, you toss and turn in the middle of the dark night, in a dark silent room, listening to the rhythm of your own breath. You inhale, then exhale. You feel your heart beating in your chest. Then the question once again arises in your mind that longs to rest. Why?

 Here you are –  continuing to believe one day, someday, somehow your patience, your willingness to endure and your days of hurting, of waiting, of wanting, you’ll wake up to an end for all of those and a beginning of something better, something more.


Confusion is set within me.

I feel a desperate need to think with a clear head as thoughts start crossing my mind. Thoughts that make me feel as if I had no control.

I feel overtaken by everything that happens around me.

I start to realise that sometimes I need to clear the board again and start new. I know that I need to keep the good and delete the bad. It is hard for me to do that at times because emotions start to run through my veins. A deep silence within my heart and a pain that I cannot sustain. I see the hurt. The only thing crossing my mind is trying to heal the pain.

When I get hurt, I clam up and do not want to open up to anyone. I feel as if the world is closing on me and I have no room to breathe. No one to see. No one to even call upon.

I feel pain that has accumulated over the years and feel it has not diminished. I feel as if I have not learned a lesson because I allow this vicious cycle to happen. I need to put a stop to all the stupid nonsense that happens around me.

I know confusion in my life is not all about feelings and emotional state, it is about not having the clarity I need to be able to find the foundation of the pain.

I know the foundation of my pain and it is something that I am working on.

Confusion is temporary, as long as we know how to control it.

What’s the Point

It has been a crazy year and as such my posting has been a little erratic at times.

If you’ve read any of my posts, you’ll have to admit that my husband is a pretty incredible guy but you know what doesn’t go into those posts? Every time he does something that really ticks me off or when he’s in a bad mood or when he’s just plain frustrating.

I know what you’re thinking, “Wait a second, you mean you post the good things about your husband, but you just leave out the bad things? That seems a little dishonest.”

That is where you would be wrong. Sorry

There are several reasons that I don’t write long ranting posts about the less-than-great parts of my marriage. First of all, it isn’t really anyone’s business and it would ultimately do way more harm than good to me, him, our emotional health and the overall health of our marriage. But mostly because that would be far too easy.

Now, that’s not to say that the negative aspects of marriage far outweigh the positive (although that is definitely what the world would like us to believe). It would be easier to rant about the negative while overlooking the positive than to choose to focus on the positive because I am a selfish, broken human being married to an equally broken human being. There’s no getting around that.

So what’s the point? Simply that choosing to focus on all of the wonderful things my husband does and says, helps me remember on the not-so-wonderful days why we got married in the first place. And not only that, but showing enough respect for my husband to not air all of our dirty laundry, but to brag on them and build them up will do far more for the betterment of our marriages than if they “fixed” everything “broken” about them.

Because when it comes right down to it, we wives do a lot of things to frustrate, annoy, anger, and yes, even antagonize our husbands, and I don’t think I’m going too far out onto a limb to say that we would much rather they tell their friends and co-workers about the amazing meal we made for dinner last night than how much we nagged them to put their dirty clothes in the laundry basket.