I can't tell you when but I gave up on July, gave the month back to God and the universe and said here this doesn't fit. It's too tight, too hot, I'm done with it.
Apparently July cannot be given back and there is no fast forward button to get through it smoothly. Just as the end of July was in sight and I could almost see my new semester around the corner, the universe sent me a horrendous headache, the big one, the one that brought freakish numbness on one side of my face that spread to my arm -- my writing arm.
I slipped myself to the hospital and got enough attention to win the battle and get a good guess at what kind a war I might be fighting.
They would have had me stay longer but I couldn't, I just couldn't. I had too many things to do, I told them and I told myself as I signed the forms declining admission. I had too much I needed to do before the end of July to hang out and watch the Olympics in a peaceful quiet private room, so I took myself out of there and back to Camp Mommy where I finally unpacked all the half-full tote bags from the trip we returned from several days before.
I did four loads of laundry. I swept, I mopped, I cooked breakfast and lunch for the kids and then moved furniture and keep cleaning. I called about an error on a bill (something I am loathe to do, I would do anything before that); I filled out a form, I mailed a check and I took the kids to Walmart to buy more crayons, more glue, more things to keep them busy.
With dinner in the oven and all the hard work done I finally had time to call my Mom for the first time since the headache started.
She's with Abuelo so it's a quick conversation.
I know I have to share her but I I keep her on the phone to brag in listing detail about how many specific and tedious things I accomplished on this last day of July so I would have a perfectly wonderful fresh start in August. I added, Hooray! Happy last day of July!
My Mom laughed at me.
Today isn't the last day, she tells me, and I don't want to believe her but of course she's right.
July wins.
Apparently July cannot be given back and there is no fast forward button to get through it smoothly. Just as the end of July was in sight and I could almost see my new semester around the corner, the universe sent me a horrendous headache, the big one, the one that brought freakish numbness on one side of my face that spread to my arm -- my writing arm.
I slipped myself to the hospital and got enough attention to win the battle and get a good guess at what kind a war I might be fighting.
They would have had me stay longer but I couldn't, I just couldn't. I had too many things to do, I told them and I told myself as I signed the forms declining admission. I had too much I needed to do before the end of July to hang out and watch the Olympics in a peaceful quiet private room, so I took myself out of there and back to Camp Mommy where I finally unpacked all the half-full tote bags from the trip we returned from several days before.
I did four loads of laundry. I swept, I mopped, I cooked breakfast and lunch for the kids and then moved furniture and keep cleaning. I called about an error on a bill (something I am loathe to do, I would do anything before that); I filled out a form, I mailed a check and I took the kids to Walmart to buy more crayons, more glue, more things to keep them busy.
With dinner in the oven and all the hard work done I finally had time to call my Mom for the first time since the headache started.
She's with Abuelo so it's a quick conversation.
I know I have to share her but I I keep her on the phone to brag in listing detail about how many specific and tedious things I accomplished on this last day of July so I would have a perfectly wonderful fresh start in August. I added, Hooray! Happy last day of July!
My Mom laughed at me.
Today isn't the last day, she tells me, and I don't want to believe her but of course she's right.
July wins.
