Here is is, my week of emotions. You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you’ll be glad you don’t live in the apartment under mine.
Anxiety. At the beginning of this week, I noticed the carpet in my bathroom, in front of my tub, was damp. I contacted the property owner. The maintenance man, with a plumber, worked two nights on what, it turns out, was a pretty serious situation. There was a sagging water spot in the ceiling of the apartment below mine. There is now a hole there. Their ceiling will get fixed. I got a new shower head and toilet seat out of the bargain. But honestly I’d rather there had been no wet carpet and just trudged along with what I have.
So am I alone in this? Am I the only person who gets really antsy when they have to come and fix something in the apartment? It’s a completely irrational fear, to be sure. Our maintenance man is nice as you please. But I keep having these visions of the maintenance man walking in and saying, “You can’t have this many bubble bath bottles in an apartment!?? And these thumbtacks all over the wall?! That’s a paddlin’!” The truth is, at age 49 I still feel like the 15-year-old who got yelled at for not cleaning his room. Which, to be clear: I’m not a hoarder. I take out the trash. If I used plates and silverware I’d wash them. But my apartment is, at times, not in order. So still I worry. However, it appears this chapter of apartment maintenance drama is closed.
Gratitude: Two years ago this week I was enjoying another overnight visit to Box Butte General Hospital. This was my third multi-day hospitalization of 2019. I was thin on hope and thin on patience, wishing I could just get my medical issues straightened out. It was in this frame of mind, one of the lower moments of my life, that I wrote a grim Facebook update at 1:43am. It is at times like this that you have a full accounting of how truly blessed you are. Friends and family members, one after another, posted comments of support. Some were gentle. Some used humor. Some reminded me of people in my life who had bounced back from much greater challenges. It was all helpful. In re-reading this one, from my sister, I am reminded of what a great person, great Mom, great everything she is.
Take a deep breath and close your eyes. Your angel is working a plan out for you. Just rest and leave it up to her. I’m here for you. Love you 
My angel, who loved Marathon Key and Johnny Depp, came through. The December hospitalization resulted in a medication change and I have not had to eat hospital food since. (ALthough I will confess Box Butte General Hospital meals are yummy. Like I said, I was hospitalized three times in 2019 so I have lots of experience.) I used a walker for a week or so and was able to go home that Christmas. Christmas 2020 was a different story. Which brings me to…
Relief. I got my COVID booster today. I am a firm believer in the vaccine. Some are, some aren’t. I wouldn’t attempt to go home for Christmas 2021 without it. (I did not attempt Christmas 2020 because there was no vaccine.) Since I am what they refer to as immuno-compromised, my booster was a full dose. Obviously the shot isn’t a cure-all. But I will bring plenty of masks (and wear them!), and use hand sanitizer, and avoid crowds, and do all the things they can’t seem to get some people to do. But that’s okay. As long as I’m doing things right, I feel confident. Today’s edition of “doing things right” includes drinking water like a camel to avoid at least some of the side effects I tend to get from the jab.
Happiness. The week began and ended on happy notes. On Monday I got to pick up my Coca-Cola Christmas tree I won in the Knight Museum silent auction. It is freaking spectacular! I’ve already shown it off on Facebook.
Then, today, something special in the mail!
I have a “Secret Santa”…and according to the return address they’re INSIDE THE BUILDING! (Cue dramatic musical sting.)
Now this is a useful gift! And a lovely note underneath.
Soooooooo….is this Secret Santa one of my coworkers, or some other nice person? Either way, I feel blessed.
Sadness. Michael Nesmith, rest in peace.
My friend David Kuskie and I saw the Monkees “Mike and Micky Show” in 2018 and it was a truly unforgettable concert. Here are some photos along with a couple of my favorite Papa Nez jams:
