Staring at the ceiling

Unfortunately, I spend extended periods of time doing that, from time to time. It is not because I am worrying. I do not lay awake at night worrying. I refuse. Sleep disorder is just a side effect of another disorder...actually, I think they call it a syndrome. Apples. Oranges. Anyway, I lay and I think. Nighttime daydreams. Recollections. Fantasizing. Plans and plots. I thought maybe I could sit here and collect some of those musings. But like dreams, they evaporate in the light of day. What seems so solid at 2 a.m. are just wisps of smoke on closer inspection.

Work

Normal work day...

Alarm goes off at 6 a.m. I am happy if I am still asleep, or grumpy, because I was still asleep.
Make-up.
Hair.
Clothes.
Coffee.
Out the door at 6:33...or, there about.
Traffic.
Parking garage.
Walk.
Dodge traffic.
Walk into the office about 7:15.
Work.
Work.
Work.
Lunch at desk.
Work.
Work.
Work.
Leave office about 3:45.
Dodge traffic.
Walk.
Parking garage.
Traffic.
Home about 4:20, or much, much, later, depending on traffic.

Work at home day...
No alarm.
No make-up.
No hair.
Pajamas.
Coffee.
Walk across the hall, 7:15.
Work.
Work.
Work.
Lunch at desk.
Work.
Work.
Work.
Close computer 3:45.
Home.

I got to sleep an hour more. Accomplished more, without distraction or disruption. Worked the same hours and got to enjoy my evening sooner. The only downfall, I walk 2-4 miles a day at work. Today, I walked about 1/4 mile. I was going to make it up on the treadmill, but the grandson wanted me to play...and that was more important.

Worrying

I have had a multitude of thoughts wander through my mind the last few days. Unfortunately, they are never when I have something at hand to jot them down. My mind moves on to other things, and that musing is lost forever...or at least until the  memory Ferris wheel brings it around again.

I have one thought, however, that is haunting me and won't go away.

I am borrowing trouble. Worrying about what might be. Something I try to avoid. I am not sitting here fretting, frozen in my own worry. That is NOT me. But sometimes, the possibilities creep up on me and I worry. Just a few moments here and there. Sitting here, like this, focusing on that one thing and writing. Writing usually clears my mind. I suppose, this time, only another test will clear my mind. I had an MRI a few days ago. Actually, I had 2 MRIs, but only have the results from one. The MRI of my lumbar spine. It showed that I have a bulging disc in my lower back, with some spinal cord compression. I am not surprised by this. I declined the offer for physical therapy or a surgical consultation. Unfortunately, and I know this from experience, in medicine, when they are looking for one thing, they often find another. I should not say, unfortunately, those accidental findings can be lifesaving...as it allows for early treatment. Just, medical findings, are rarely a good thing. They found something on my left kidney. Something, as a diagnosis, is not very helpful, or comforting. They are going to schedule an ultrasound to take a better look. Hopefully, it is something simple that I can ignore. I ignore a lot. No, I make an educated decision not to treat everything that ails me. A pill for this, and a pill for that, and before you know it, you're taking medicine to thwart side-effects of another. I have been saying no to surgery on my back, for nearly 20 years, and doing quite nicely, thank you very much.
I am still waiting on the results from the MRI on my brain. This one worries me more. I have been previously diagnosed with a Chiari I malformation. (Chiari malformations are structural defects in the cerebellum, the part of the brain that controls balance. Normally the cerebellum and parts of the brain stem sit in an indented space at the lower rear of the skull, above the foramen magnum (a funnel-like opening to the spinal canal). When part of the cerebellum is located below the foramen magnum, it is called a Chiari malformation. Type I involves the extension of the cerebellar tonsils (the lower part of the cerebellum) into the foramen magnum, without involving the brain stem. Normally, only the spinal cord passes through this opening.) This is something that must remain stable. The possibilities are endless and scary. As the consents at work say, up to and including death. The treatment is neurosurgery. And I use the term treatment loosely. I don't want to go there. 

Foggy morning memories

I drove to work yesterday morning, headed east as the sun was waking up, as I usually do this time a year. The wispy clouds were pink against cerulean skies, as far as the eyes could see. My morning commute at sunrise, often makes me wish for more leisure time with my camera. It makes being up so early a bit less painful. I noticed the fields alongside the road deep in fog. There is something about fog that speaks to my imagination. I do not find it creepy. (Though, I dislike driving in the pea soup variety) I do not envision Jack the Ripper. I imagine, instead, myself strolling along on dew covered grass in the quiet early morning. The fog swirling in my wake. I have had many opportunities to enjoy the solitude of a foggy morning. Usually, while others slept after LARPing into the wee hours. This being the case, I never had a camera at hand. On the weekends, I can't seem to manage jumping out of bed, grabbing the camera and heading in search of foggy sunrises. I have seldom heard the forecast for fog, and it, and sunrises, are a time limited opportunity.

Thinking about those early mornings on LARP weekends, other memories surface.

Walking on grass, so frost covered, that it crackles with every step.

A suspension bridge sparkling with frost, as early morning sun invades through the trees. That one ended up in injury, as frost covered suspension bridges are slippery, and the cables are sharp if you grab them trying not to fall. I shredded both hands. Strange how it still remains a favorite memory.

I woke, in an open air cabin, to several inches of snow. Made my way to the "tavern" and made coffee. I sat on the porch, wrapped in a blanket, and watched the world wake up. The snow undisturbed by man, sparkled in the soft early light. Down the hill, deer made their way around a pond. No sounds of traffic or people. Nothing to disturb the solitude. It felt like I was the only person on earth.

Sometime soon, I'll have to write about my late night memories.

Excuse me if my mind wanders

It's 4 a.m. on a Sunday morning and I am not asleep. Instead my mind has been on a vast field trip while I lay awake in bed. Instead of getting frustrated I got up to write. Clear the mind, the rest will follow. Uh huh, sure. But here goes, randomness...

As children, the most important person in our lives, is our parent(s). They teach us, guide us, protect us. Or, at least, that is how it is supposed to work. As teens, it's friends. Their job is much like that of our parents, but often, even less dependable. As adults, it gets a bit more complicated. Many will say that God is the most important person in their life. I often wonder how many think that is the proper response. As, I often do not see them living the life they proclaim to believe in. More on that later. For a lot of adults, that important person, is their spouse/significant other/mate. Sometimes, that role is even filled by the search for that one. The most important person becomes an, often elusive, ideal. More on that later, too. Children, obviously, can be the focus of our lives. It is important to be engaged with your children, but do not get lost in your role as a parent to the exclusion of all else. My Mom once told me, that when I moved out, she looked at Dad and realized she no longer knew him. She had been way too focused on me. Because of this, I worked on the belief that if I cared for my marriage, my children would benefit, and I would still have that, when my sons found more important things in their lives. I won't claim to have done the best job at that. It worked out, but I wish I had done better. Hindsight. Friends can play an important part for adults. They become our support system. At one time, I had a friend that I shared everything with. I could not imagine my life without her. I thought the feeling was mutual, until it wasn't. There was a separation, a reconciliation, then a divorce. Not in the legal sense, but in a very emotional one. Some people find a calling. I have many distractions in my life, but I have not felt a calling to something. A strong passion that I am willing to give myself to...except, maybe the beach. A few people, may, say that they are the most important person in their life. I have mixed feeling about this. At first, I wondered why we did not, generally, think this way? It is important that we take care of ourselves, to be a priority. But, then, those people that will admit to this type of thinking, come off as egocentric. As individuals, we need to be important, but not the center of our own universe.

And on to those additional thoughts...

I am probably repeating myself here, but in an effort to be complete in my random thinking, people often talk the talk, but do not walk the walk, when it comes to God. They proclaim the belief, but do not live the life. They like to preach it, but apparently, it only applies to others. This is not true of all people, but it sure seems frequent looking in from the outside. I will repeat the question too, why be a part of a religion, if you do not believe in the tenets that is the very foundation? Catholics using birth control. Jews eating pork. Wives not graciously bowing down to the leadership of their husband. If that last one surprised you, might want to look closer at your religion. That is pretty standard in Christianity. I am not Christian, of that, I am sure. Instead of picking and choosing what parts of a religion I will follow, I have done much study trying to find a belief system that I can love. So far, I have failed. I like to believe, I hope, that their is a higher power. I hope that we are not alone. I hope that all the craziness has a purpose. I believe faith and religion can be too separate ideas. Faith is inside you. Religion is man-made...and often to a purpose that makes me suspicious.

And that second, follow-up. The soulmate. The one true, just for you, forever and ever, perfect person. Bullshit. People are not perfect. Love is not perfect. You can't sit on your ass and expect a perfect life. It takes work and attention, just like anything else worthwhile.

I give up. Time to try for sleep, before the sun rises.

Quiet

I find myself feeling a bit reclusive. Maybe a bit contemplative. Quiet, even. I am not sad. I am just...internalized. I do not know why, or when it started. Sort of feels like it's been on the edges for a while. I have no time for withdrawing. I have a full-time job and a busy social calendar. Going to have to compromise. Find a median. People don't generally like me when I am quiet.