Almost FOUR YEARS since my last post! I don't know if anyone stumbles across these words any more. The three of you who used to read it, ten years ago, does it send you an alert when I post? I would probably never remember, but for these times, like today, when I'm working on bills or taxes and happen to look at my bookmarks bar and see that orange and white B. I both enjoy and cringe reading through my old posts. Sometimes I even get misty-eyed. I still miss my dad that much. And I still can't believe the time grows and later this year I'll be saying he's been gone FIFTEEN YEARS. But it does hurt less. Most of the time. 

Anyway. This post is not about my dad. It's not about anything really. It's about me, sitting down at my computer, taking a moment to acknowledge the very centering, almost nostalgic act of writing, typing, sharing my thoughts with the world, albeit a very, very small world of maybe just my current self, and my future self. I do miss writing. I miss creating. I've worked so much these last two years, at the bedside, time has flown at warped-speed, and things that happened in January 2020 happened two lifetimes ago instead of two years ago. I've had no time to write. No energy to write. No desire to write. I've had nothing in me but the robotic stamina to eat-sleep-work for 24 months. I think of nothing but combatting disease and death, convincing friends, family, public of how to stay well, and I can only begin to imagine how many years have been taken off my life by stress and sadness and a variety pack of different kinds of fatigue. 

So this feels good. Sitting at my kitchen table, facing a window full of sunny skies, enjoying the "morning" before I go back to work (tonight), and typing a little. This could be my life. I could give it all up, everything I've built and worked toward at my current place of employment, and travel. I could work 36 hours per week instead of 60 or 80, and spend the other ~50 taking in windows full of sunshine. It's what they would do. My employees who "just have to be selfish right now." I don't know what's right. I don't know if I do the thing that's good for me, but is the potential detriment to several people I really care about, or if I stay where I am and suffer for them, with them, unhappy, but helpful, serving, doing good. 

I don't want to think about that right now. For the first time in a really long time, I'm enjoying myself. Let's not ruin the moment with the thoughts that haunt me all the time. There's plenty of time for that later. 

Hopefully more soon.