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Trying not to be tired
Nov. 16th, 2017 12:03 pmSo much going on. My meditation in the mornings is increasingly difficult in the concentration element since there is SO. MUCH. GOING. ON that my concentration is just in ribbons. Good for practicing mindfulness but not particularly peaceful to process all this.
So, huge emotional issue: my dear friend Tim has been released from the hospital and taken to a homeless shelter. Here, he is now automatically in the system that Washington state has for those about to fall through the cracks: he'll have access to counseling, housing, transportation, medical treatment, and food, All that is good. It's just that it's taking a while, of course, and meanwhile he's, like, living in a homeless shelter. It's a little dehumanizing. I just hope he doesn't walk out of it. And I hope to god he starts counseling soon, because in my phone calls with him he is incredibly, deeply angry and hostile at his ex for what Tim sees as abandoning him. He's angry at the world, too, for not helping him. "Nobody's helping me," he said to me with fierce bitterness, and it was all I could do not to say "Honey, EVERYONE is helping you." And they are. Friends have stopped his former landlord from selling his belongings; friends have packed up things; friends have secured a storage unit and put things in there; friends have taken him here, there, and everywhere for visits to doctors; friends have brought him items he's requested. He's the victim, he thinks. Classic alcoholic thinking but I am not saying any of this to him. My role here is to be a sounding board and a shoulder until he gets a residence somewhere and can start therapy.
Work: I do not know how I will do this in spring semester, when I'm teaching two new preps and a trailer class of developmental writers (who will have failed not because they can't write but because they don't turn in their work). In the spring, I'll be teaching, leading this hot shot new committee, and rolling out a number of things in the writing program. I'm barely keeping up now...and I'm teaching only two small classes! Sigh. But onward.
Family: my brother and SIL have moved. Again. This time to Connecticut. Lord, I do not know how they keep doing this. They're experts by now, but seriously, they've moved about 8 times in 10 years, and I just do not know how they keep doing it. This time, though, they moved to be closer to my dad, and even if Dad's days in the Vermont house are numbered, they'll still be closer to him geographically, so it's all good. I miss them, even though I barely saw them while they were here.
I've spent the last three days recovering from a major muscle pull last Sunday, and today I'm approaching normal, finally. Three nights of wine and hot tub for the win! Seriously, too much wine. But also exercises, stretches, ice packs, and ibuprofen...and today I'm mostly functional.
Bleah. Tired.
So, huge emotional issue: my dear friend Tim has been released from the hospital and taken to a homeless shelter. Here, he is now automatically in the system that Washington state has for those about to fall through the cracks: he'll have access to counseling, housing, transportation, medical treatment, and food, All that is good. It's just that it's taking a while, of course, and meanwhile he's, like, living in a homeless shelter. It's a little dehumanizing. I just hope he doesn't walk out of it. And I hope to god he starts counseling soon, because in my phone calls with him he is incredibly, deeply angry and hostile at his ex for what Tim sees as abandoning him. He's angry at the world, too, for not helping him. "Nobody's helping me," he said to me with fierce bitterness, and it was all I could do not to say "Honey, EVERYONE is helping you." And they are. Friends have stopped his former landlord from selling his belongings; friends have packed up things; friends have secured a storage unit and put things in there; friends have taken him here, there, and everywhere for visits to doctors; friends have brought him items he's requested. He's the victim, he thinks. Classic alcoholic thinking but I am not saying any of this to him. My role here is to be a sounding board and a shoulder until he gets a residence somewhere and can start therapy.
Work: I do not know how I will do this in spring semester, when I'm teaching two new preps and a trailer class of developmental writers (who will have failed not because they can't write but because they don't turn in their work). In the spring, I'll be teaching, leading this hot shot new committee, and rolling out a number of things in the writing program. I'm barely keeping up now...and I'm teaching only two small classes! Sigh. But onward.
Family: my brother and SIL have moved. Again. This time to Connecticut. Lord, I do not know how they keep doing this. They're experts by now, but seriously, they've moved about 8 times in 10 years, and I just do not know how they keep doing it. This time, though, they moved to be closer to my dad, and even if Dad's days in the Vermont house are numbered, they'll still be closer to him geographically, so it's all good. I miss them, even though I barely saw them while they were here.
I've spent the last three days recovering from a major muscle pull last Sunday, and today I'm approaching normal, finally. Three nights of wine and hot tub for the win! Seriously, too much wine. But also exercises, stretches, ice packs, and ibuprofen...and today I'm mostly functional.
Bleah. Tired.
