So, I spewed.

So, I spewed. I actually have no problem with alcohol, and believe there are times and places for it. (I enjoyed a cold Corona Saturday on the party while on the dock, with dinner and other adults around, and hours before driving.) Sometimes, however, for ME, it's healthier to spew out at least some of the crap going through my mind, get it out here or elsewhere, or dance, something.
And then I could sleep.

This morning was cool. Daisy and I enjoyed a long brisk walk. My legs and I missed our walk on Sunday morning. I thought I'd be thrilled not to be woken up too early (by Daisy). We (M and I) had stayed at Ma's nice apartment, which was really nice of her. (How many other TCRG's would offer such a thing?) It saved us an hour and a half drive Saturday night going home from the party, and probably close to that much time Sunday morning. M woke up eager to GO TO THE FEIS. She had a decent breakfast, however, and rather liked that Ma had hot chocolate (with marshmallows!).

The girl who moved into a unit somewhere above us is close to M's age. She has dog walking signs all over with photos of a little whitish dog. M and her have not yet met. This girl had to give up her shitzu (sp) dog in order to move into this particular unit.
As much of a pain in the, um, neck, Daisy can be sometimes, simply for being a dog, I am grateful that she IS here, that we have a place where she can call home, and she is not so ill like her "boyfriend" Colt had been, or like Chase had been.  Or like Skeets is becoming rapidly at my mom's.

It's a new day. The day N and I maybe were going to see a concert -- a band he used to cover in his high school band. He has a work conflict, and his kids are with him this week and yadda yadda (and has not been back on match I don't think).  I do know and I do understand, he's "struggling" (his word) emotionally; I know.  And he is one of thee 3 people IRL who ask me about my father. Only 3. I think.  {we've talked quite amiacably and such since my last mention of N on here.}  I still feel done, though.  At least at this moment.  I just don't have the gumption to even write him back this time.  My mail courier at work is THRILLED to utilize those tickets (Doug doesn't even care for that band sufficiently, nor do I; I'd have enjoyed the time with N but eh).  MailCourier will take either his wife or his son, took time off of his second job.  So, good.

I suppose it's too early for LateCoworker's obituary to be in the newspaper (today). I'll look, though.

"In my life." My song my late cousin Dougie "gave" me, done by The Beatles. I still have my life, my Billy who came under the covers this morning, I can still feel the cooler air on my skin as I walked, I still have my hearing so cell phones work great even without texting. Even with IRS audits and bills (I forgot to pay a couple of mine, while trying to stay on top of Dad's daggnabbit) and potential legal battles.  I have my life.

I have too many blessings to not appreciate them when others cannot, like LateCoworker, or Dougie, or the girl upstairs missing her dog, or my Dad who can't go outside and seethe stars at night. I'm alive and will not get down too far. And I'll spew sometimes. And I AM stressed. And, that's okay:)

To a new day. Hopefully I am "allowed" to talk with M.
off to work now, though work calls made earlier.