Thursday, January 26, 2012


I really do believe that you can
 weather any storm.
Unless you're standing
knee deep in a conductor.

If the picture elicits a confused response then it has done what it was intended to do. I am confused. 

And tired. 
And sore.
And it keeps getting worse.

The muscle spasms at night have been horrible. Around nine I can feel the old familiar tightening and I know they're going to start soon. I hate to take the muscle relaxers but I have no choice unless I want to endure the pain. I've tried the bath and it will help while I'm in there but after I get out they just start all over again.

Let me back up just a bit. 

I'm packing up a home that I've lived in for seventeen years. I have more crapola than I know what to do with. Some of it, well, I've just tossed and some I've given to goodwill. That still leaves me with stuff that my daughter doesn't want and stuff that I'm just not ready to toss. I don't know why I'm still holding on to things that I haven't used in years. I found that I have 15 sets of sheets and blankets that I haven't seen in years. 

It was like Christmas all over again.
But I digress.

There is a reason that moving is one of the most stressful things that you can experience. When you add fibromyalgia to the mix you are in for one doozy of a time. I pack a box and then find that ten more are needed. Just when I think I've made a dent in this venture, I find out that I'm not even close. Maybe I should just close my eyes and throw it all in a box and hope for the best when I get to my new home. Really, I wish I could do that.

I'm just not made that way.
I'm too organized for my own good.

I need to go through every last item and get rid of the stuff that I never use. Again, I have things that I haven't used in at least 15 years. Why do I persist in saving it?  For instance, my mother had tea cups and figurines from her mother. It wasn't anything valuable but they had sentimental value to my mother. I never met the original owner and these things were hidden away in the hutch in the dining room. Now that I'm really looking at these things my only thought is that they don't mean anything to me. The memories that my mother held are long gone. My daughter doesn't want these things and neither do I. Why then is it so difficult to toss them? Memories are stored in our hearts not in nameless figurines and sets of dishes. There are things that are a part of our tradition and those things will remain but the other things definitely need to go.

Good, I'm glad I talked myself into it.
So, now let me continue. 
Does the word rain, cold and cloudy mean anything to you?

I'm totally in move mode.

Moving and hurting don't go together.

But, for now, they have to.

One step at a time.

One baby step at a time.

I keep saying that but it still hasn't worked.

Crapola........ (that's not intended for the stuff in my house)