It's A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood

It's been a few good days around here.

And not just because of this, or this. Or even the sweetness of this.

I've felt ... well, great!

It's been a long time, baby.

September, I believe.

Maybe before.

I think alot of things are playing into it.

We've changed my prescription, again, for dialysis and I'm sleeping abit better. Well, I'm sleeping, Period. That in itself it a miracle.

I've also done alot of personal reflection ad realized I'd given up on alot of things. Simple things. Things that made me happy, fulfilled, human.

Like, I hadn't taken the time to get my hair cut since July or even color it. I was so tired and exhausted that I just didn't think about it. Or care that I wasn't thinking about it.

I'd fallen into a "uniform" rut of sweats or jammies. Since I've been on and off quarantine, and unable to drive much I'm home bound. So, I figured why not live in jammies. It was comfy :)

Basically, I'd gotten l.a.z.y.

It was an easy transition for me. Since I was working FT in my management position from home before I was put out on disability, I was used to being comfy anyway. No need to do the hair and makeup for the kids, or the cats. As long as I fed them all, they loved me.

In a way, though, I gave up on myself.

Chronic illness will do that. It wraps around every fiber of your being, your existence and taints it all. Mostly, you don't see it coming. It just happens.

But, the last few days I've felt more energy. Don't get me wrong. By 5pm I'm toast and normally take a fast hour nap before John gets home. But, the days have been better.

Yesterday, John threw me out of the house and I got my hair cut. 6 inches worth. All the old color was cut off, and the unhealthy split ends.  The curl is back, and for the first time since I was 14 I have a head of my natural color only.

(Don't worry!That's being rectified tonight by me and Miss Clairol thankyouverymuch. Salt and pepper is for chicken. Not hair)

For my birthday, I got some gift cards and went shopping. And bought a few new clothes. Granted, they're comfy clothes I can wear around the house, and nothing that Stacy or Clinton would approve of, but they have color.  Fuschia pink, teal blue, royal purple, jade green. And the best part? I've been wearing the same schlumpy clothes for so long, I didn't realize I've gone down TWO sizes.  That was a kick itself!

Here's the new deal.

Everyday I'm going to get up, throw on some Bare Escentuals and get dressed. Even if it's my new comfy clothes. The ones with color.  That fit.

I'm going to start trying to read more, work with my daughter on her sewing, and let her try (God help her) to teach me to knit. I may break down and learn how to play Star Wars Storm Trooper Kill  The Bad Guys or whatever with my son. 

I'm 43.

I'm reclaiming my life.

I am woman, wife, mother and friend.

Here me roar.