Much Ado About Nothing Much

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Today is a normal day, probably framed by much ado about nothing. Just another day. Hopefully uneventful.

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I woke up to a gray room, and it was raining outside. I love the rain; love how it calms everything. The earth, the animals, me.

Daisy is at the front window watching for birds, but it is quiet out there. The birds are wherever they go when it rains.

My right foot feels like it’s asleep, but I know it is the pinched nerve. Life seems to slow down when moving from room to room is difficult.

I’ve already fed the indoor and outdoor cats. Given them all fresh water to drink.

After that, I take care of myself before I start the day here. Next, I’ll get up and have a bowl of cereal and possibly raisin toast.

The Energy Company Appointment:

The guys came to do my scheduled house weatherization appointment. There were three young men. Boys really.

One spent the bulk of the time in my bathroom with the door shut, which made me uncomfortable. He asked if he could use my bathroom, and what was I to say?

Whatever they did is not noticeable, as I was working while they were here. I just hope it helps my electric bills.

I see that Daisy is getting sleepy, lying next to the window. Her eyes are easing shut. She is bored with the inactivity of the birds that usually keep her entertained there.

Not much goes on in your world when pain is present. You focus on breathing and not moving any part of your body quickly. It makes you weary in a way that only pain can.

I’m hungry, but I hate to leave the heated chair. So I sit here and think of all the words that have “pain” in them.

Painful, painstaking, painstakingly, pained.

And the words that describe pain. Sharp, dull, chronic, stabbing, intense.

Pain throws an invisible gray cloud over your day. You think through everything based on how much it will hurt to do it.

Killvester’s Bed:

Last night, knowing it would be colder, I went outside and put a soft throw into Killvester’s bed. He has suddenly chosen the newer bed that I had placed on the settee cushion.

It warms my heart to see that aging kitty taking advantage of what I can give him.

The Midterm Election:

I voted by absentee ballot on Monday. The midterm election is just around the corner, and fraught with possible problems.

I can remember when an election was simply an election. Certain officials were voted in, and others were voted out. There was no real controversy because the people had spoken.

When did the world get turned upside down and inside out?

Navigating Another Day:

My day will be navigated around nothing much. It is just another day of the week. Butting up against the weekend. Each day fades into the next without fanfare. And that is the kind of life I prefer.

There are times in your life when big exciting things happen, a burst of pure joy and satisfaction. At other times, grief weighs you down. In between are days like this. Normal and ordinary.

Likely, no one will interrupt what becomes of my day. It will stretch as the clock ticks through noon and into evening.

The Cats:

Simon is going through his morning ritual of zooming all over the house. It will be quiet for a time, a short lull, and then I will hear him run like the devil is behind him. Brief silences, then racing from room to room again.

He has short spurts of cat energy that don’t seem planned. Daisy and Ivy don’t seem to have these bursts of energy. Well, Daisy, occasionally. With Simon, it is an everyday feature.

Now he and Daisy have traded places, and Simon is looking out the window. Possibly at the outdoor cats eating or drinking water.

In a few minutes, I will get up to have breakfast. I used to get through all my morning chores before breakfast. Now I can only handle a few things at a time before the pinched nerve screams for me to sit.

My day will revolve around figuring out my meals and taking care of Ivy, Simon, and Daisy. And however many cats that will decide to visit here outside.

The Outdoor Kitties:

Killvester and Tuna, the outdoor cats, both have orthopedic beds to support their joints now.

Killvester looks like he’s already lived the bulk of his life, and from the looks of things, it wasn’t an easy span of time. Probably cat fights.

Tuna looks like he is in the middle of his life and perhaps has quite a bit more to go.

Yesterday I heard cats fighting in the distance, and I wished I could figure out where they were and break it up. But going down the steps seemed a gargantuan effort. Still, I have to take the trash cans to the curb for the weekly pickup.

I texted Smitty next door, but he was sleeping off his week’s pain after Randy drove him in my car to the VA. Of the three of us, Smitty stopped driving about ten years ago for health reasons, in his late forties. I only drive when necessary.

Randy is older than both of us and in the best physical shape. And now he sometimes finds himself driving the two of us. His old car needs transmission work, and my twenty-plus-year-old car is the only one running right now.

Last week he had to drive Smitty to the VA across town four times. The VA isn’t the easiest place to deal with medical needs, apparently.

Three Neighbors:

I think of the three of us, two men and one woman, as three people navigating life through the telescope of our aging bodies.

The phone rings, and it is my Medicare provider. Thankfully, I very rarely get spam calls. I don’t answer it. They keep trying to schedule a home visit for some reason, but I am rejecting that scenario.

I have an appointment with my physician in a few weeks for my twice-a-year check-up and lab work.

As you get older, life seems dictated by doctor visits and medication deliveries. Time splits into segments of what you must do, embroidered around what you can get done.

I haven’t told you anything that amounts to much this morning. So this will be read or not read based on whether you’ve gotten this far. This is just an indication of where I am this morning.

Now I hand it over to you to tell me how your own morning is panning out. What’s your day look like moving forward? Perhaps it is more eventful than mine.

I see that Simon has had a rest and is at it again. Making funny noises and running through the house however his brain dictates. Possibly it is a male thing that drives him.

And I’ve got to get myself up and pointed toward the kitchen so I can have breakfast.

I wish my body felt strong enough to dance in the rain. Or to sit outside and raise my head to feel the raindrops kiss my face.