It's really something how, over the past couple of weeks or so, I've wondered where ms has been. I've missed it tremendously! I've longed for its return! Okay, no. None of those things are true. Not even a little.
I've been fighting to keep my stress level at a low roar, because I've not wanted to wake ms. But even the thought of, "I need to calm down, or I'll start feeling like crap" is stressful. So I went for groceries. Not to relieve stress, but to have more to eat than a roll of toilet paper.
I found myself zoning in and out of retro'ing, which was triggered when I spotted a box of Sugar Daddy candies! And just like that, I was taking mental time travels. I landed somewhere around 1978, when I'd stand on the front of the grocery cart as Mom pushed, jumping off to grab my 2 cans of Hawaiian Punch:-) What a beautiful mental vacation it was. In 1978, I didn't have bills to pay, or...more accurately, not be able to pay. I had a healthy Mommom - not phone calls from the neurosurgeons or nursing facility managers, giving me bad news. I didn't have sickness and fatigue. What's that on the bottom shelf? Green Hawaiian Punch? Orange? In plastic containers? WTH? Just like that, back in 2010.
I totally rocked the little duplex cart like I always do. As I walked my prized score down Victory Lane, quite proud of how much I was able to stack and stuff into my little cart, I battled the overwhelming urge to give a "prom queen waive" to the other customers. You know, "elbow - elbow - wrist - wrist - wrist". I'll tell you who I impress. The male customers. Men LOVE to stack and situate and stuff things into carts. I've even received compliments. Mmm hmm.
I proudly walked out of the store and toward my parking area and breathed deeply. Real life was back, but I was counting blessings. I had a week's worth of groceries, and that's a blessing. I was going home to my kids, and they're a blessing. I was going home, and a home is a blessing:-) But as I was counting blessings, I couldn't find my car. I stood for a few minutes, retracing my steps. Surely, I parked in this section. I always do. It's a compensation method I've been using for years, because I used to lose my car all the time. I stared out across the entire lot. Heeeeeere, my car... Nothing. It's really not out there. It's not anywhere. Oh no. At some time during my trip to 1978, someone took my car? How can that be? I began to tear up a little, but then I thought, "Wait. If someone took it and it doesn't turn up, no more car payment!" I went into my purse for my phone so I could call my Mom to come pick us up. "Us" being me and my groceries. On top of my phone was an unfamiliar key ring? What the? Ooooooh. That's right. I haven't had my car in a week. Because it's a mechanical hot mess and I don't have the money to repair it. So it's sitting. I'm driving Mommom's low-to-the-ground, convertible sporty car. And there it is. Literally right in front of me. Thanks, ms! I always appreciate the cognitive flatulence!
I had to carefully restack everything from my cart into her much-smaller-than-mine car. Bending, twisting, neck turning, restacking. I was as flexible as the Tin Man. Creeeeak, griiiiind, creeeeeak. Got it all in! And then the soreness began.
As I was driving home :::bz:::
Ugh. Vibrations are so annoying. Location? Pelvis. Yes. Pelvis. I turned my head to look for oncoming traffic and felt it more noticeably. :::bzzzzz:::
By the time I got home, it was constant. And strong. And pelvic. :::BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ:::
See, this is why ms amuses me. People who share of their vibrations openly express frustration and hatred toward them. "I can't stand this vibration in my leg!"...or back...or arm. Either I'm the only one, or others are too embarrassed to share that their vibrations occur in their torso, lower abdomen, or pelvic areas. I'm not embarrassed, on account of...I don't choose where they happen, ms does. How can I be sad about life when my body is going BZZZZZZ? Simply stated, I can't. Aw ms. You really do care for me:-)
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