This week at work has been crazy. Not really. Life’s just been crazy is probably more like it. Lately I’m feeling the weeks start slow and then ramp up insanely. I need to start leaving work on Friday to do Monday or something. But I like having everything done at the end of Friday. So I just spend Thursday and Friday stressing myself out. Next week is the last week for all our crazy Thursday meetings. So one more week and it’ll open way up. I’m ready for it to. For sure.
The Health Department called today. I was waiting for the dreaded – “It’s Britta. You’ve been a close contact. AGAIN.” Seriously, Britta quit calling – I’ve quarantined voluntarily for weeks now I have no potential friends or contacts. Nope, not that. They have some extra COVID doses tomorrow and she wanted to see if I’d be willing and open to coming in. Ummmm? Maybe? I don’t know. I’m still so torn. Fine. Let’s do it. 10:55 a.m. I get THE shot.
I didn’t expect to get a call this quick. They’ve been calling on Mondays but I guess they must have received too many doses today that have to be used tomorrow. I do have risk factors that bump me up in categories but I was still 1C. So, it’s nice to know they are already to that group. Yet, I’m sure it’s because I live in a non-believing county and many aren’t getting it. I have chosen to get it as I do believe in herd immunity and I do have people I love that I don’t want to risk. Plus my own asthma puts me at huge risk. Years ago I was sure I would die from influenza. So, I’ll do the shot. I figured if it kills me, it kills me.
That thought process leads me to believe that yes I probably need to see a therapist and my mental health medication doctor again. Because it’s truly how I feel. If I die, I die. But that would make this chaos be over. That would be fine. No, not suicidal. No, I don’t think I purposely want to die. Yet, I’m currently totally okay with risk taking and whatever happens happens.
Maybe I’ve spent too much time in these walls? Definitely. Remember. I’ve been working on not drinking and that was about my only outlet. So I sit in this house. 24 hours a day. 7 days a week. Literally. Work. Eat. Sleep. All here. I went and had 1 1/2 beers last Thursday. Felt awful. Came home. That was it. Now, in the last 3 weeks I just did the math and I’ve probably left my house a maximum of 8 hours total. That includes grocery shopping, running to my office to check the mail sometimes, sending mail, grabbing food, taking Jax to the doctor. Not many hours. I do think being home all the time messes with a person. Is it healthy? Mmmmm. No. Do I want to be healthy? I don’t know. I ignore calls I know are inviting me somewhere and I sit. Here. I like it here. I don’t like people. My anxiety is increasing which means my sitting inside is increasing. I need the weather to improve so outdoor activities are plausible options.
The furnace guys were here today and installed my new (amazing) high efficiency furnace. I paid for a humidifier that connects to the heating system as the kids keep getting bloody noses and I know the humidity is bad. I also paid for a brand new central air unit. I’m in this house 24/7. Remember. Might as well have the best. I also learned our central air was 28 years old. Yeah, the end. No wonder nothing is efficient. So the furnace is in and this house has never been so toasty. I’m honestly not sure I’ve ever lived in a house with an incredible heating system. Sad but true. Gosh, I’ve earned where I’ve worked myself up to. It feels that much cozier knowing that. The new air unit will go in during the spring. And the humidifier next week. Pricey but worth it. And it should increase the value of my 1976 home which is ALL vintage. Ha. Furnace was 20 years, hot water heater 20 years, central air 23 years. No wonder it was all dying. My utility bills should drop immensely now too.
Sadly now I really need to budget well and rebuild my savings account. Damn it. I so wish I could get the child support I’m owed. That $25K arrears is super annoying. Super. I’m used to it. It’s fine. But I think of all the great things to be done with that money. Oh well. Someday as that shit is NEVER going away buddy. Never.
I took Jax to the doctor for his ears this week. The normal nurse was gone and we had a fill-in. To begin with it was awkward. She didn’t introduce us to the student nurse as usual. She seemed off, nervous. She was good with Jax but just not talkative. I hadn’t saw this nurse in a couple years and was thinking it was weird. Then it clicked. She was married to Andrew’s brother. Of course she saw my Facebook push for Kira’s fundraiser. Kira’s memory. Kira’s life. Of course. Maybe she thought I hated them all. Her husband texted me once (now exhusband) – I’m so sorry for everything. I never responded. Against all anxiety I forced myself to smile and be more chatty. Telling Jax she was going to be nice and make it fun for him. Blah blah. It did break the ice and she became far more social too. She definitely thought I wasn’t happy to see her. I don’t hate them. It’s not their fault. It’s Andrew’s fault. Andrew killed Kira. Andrew. Alone. I hate the world. I hate life. Yet I don’t blame a specific person. I’m just angry.
I then thought of Kira a lot as always. Gosh I miss that girl. We’re coming up to the last weekend of the month – 9 full months that Kira’s been gone. 9. So many months, weeks, days, hours. A shining soul. Gone.
I’ve realized the traumatic deaths. The never got to say good bye. Never saw it coming deaths. Those deaths. They linger the longest. The hardest. The deepest. Don’t get me wrong, all deaths hurt, sting, are awful and mind numbing. Yet, these deaths are different for me. I miss Brenda. I get sad about Brenda. A lot. But I had the time to process before she died. I know she died as peacefully as possible. I had time to prepare. Kira, Steve, Jamie – Of humans, these 3 have never left my soul. They never will. They cause such a breaking feeling inside. Such pain. To know Kira & Steve died from violence and their final moments were terrifying. To know Jamie was so sudden. So young. They hurt. They break. They are deeper.
And with that I’m totally off in left field rambling. I’ll go back to being paranoid while I think about this covid shot. Sounds fair. Sounds easier than scrapping the scabs in these wounds.