Chimes

Thursdays seem to be shaping up into long, long days. I could barely wake up this morning, D having to get me up when I didn't even hear my chime. Three times. Not unheard of, but unusual.

And I've been reading. A lot. Finding the stories comforting. Report to follow. I don't want to recommend a book until I know the ending. I've been known to permanently boycott authors for ending a novel badly.

My leg muscles are feeling worked over, lest anyone think tai chi is easy. Tomorrow, I will take time to practice.

Today, we stopped by the library employee picnic. Good folks, all in all. And I knew a lot, from my years there from my previous life. Glad to be with my genuine hair, felt right to look my age, evidence of the time lived. And although I thought about mentioning this blog undertaking, and a few other realities, I found myself asking others about their lives, and not wanting to talk about my own at all.

"Still doing the nursing thing." That being the extent of my sharing. Seemed enough.

Odd insight. Woman who once proved a staunch friend in my time of distress, politely kept her distance. And I realized, she doesn't really know how to talk about anything but chaos and troubles. When I returned from Gulf War I with D, and got stable and happy, she ceased to be a friend. I never quite knew why she pulled away, although I absented myself because I got very tired of her litany of the sorrows of people in her life - that I'd never even met - recited to me relentlessly. I think, now, that she lost interest in me due to my lack of personal drama. Fair enough, for both I suppose.

We got a good walk through the park, as we didn't know which area had been reserved. Worth the effort just for an evening stroll, got us out of the house.