It was Dad’s last chemo session today, hurrah! He’s gained a kilo since last week, has oxygen saturation levels of 99% and looks better than he has done in months. It was cause for celebration, but alas, he did not like the award-winning vegetarian restaurant we chose.
He wanted a leg of lamb, but instead, got a bowl of cauliflower soup topped with toasted seeds. There were plenty of other things on the menu, but he couldn’t even read out the ingredients without ranting. We’ll know better next time.
I’ve got a cracking headache, which came on Monday morning. I long for some rest, but today, I am selling Christmas cards and then have to go to a charity ball with a client. I just want to pull on my PJ’s and can’t bear the idea of rolling on the Spanx and tottering around in a pair of bunion crushing heels. I wonder if I’ll be able to get away early?
I know I am supposed to be living in the moment, but I cannot stop fantasising about Sunday’s silent retreat. I am desperate for some quiet and rest. Why is there always so much to do? Why have I created this hectic existence?
There are card fairs to go to, social media posts to construct, student workies to liaise with, kids that need ferrying to and fro, school plays and concerts that all clash with the card fairs etc. It’s at times like this I wish I was polyamorous and had several husbands to field.
To be honest, I am finding this whole being in the ‘now’ thing hard. I am using my efforts to be spiritual as another way to beat myself up. I judge myself for being so judgemental, feel like a failure when my mind runs away with me and get angry with my body for its persistent headaches.
The stillness never goes away