Usually when I sit down to write I have some idea in my head of what I am going to write about. Today, there seems to be nothing in my head. But I decided that I hadn't written anything in a while and I know when I don't write some people think I'm slipping into unconsciousness or maybe dying so I thought I at least write about what I actually am doing during the days of silence. Hmmmm. So maybe there was actually something going on in my mind to write about. Maybe it wasn't just a big blank nothing of the brain.
You know what would be nice...If when I didn't write people thought that maybe I was on a wild vacation to the rain forest or maybe I'd met someone and was spending so much time with him I didn't have a moment to sit and write, of all things. Actually, I've been thinking about that quite a bit lately. THAT being going out with someone. Since I haven't been with anyone except one man in the last twenty five years it feels almost impossible for me to hang out with someone new. It's kind of scary. When I last met someone and fell in love I was a young woman in her mid thirties. Now I'm a middle aged woman...Bald woman at that but with a great wig...And I've had cancer and I'm way beyond the age of pregnancy and family so a new relationship would be an entirely different kind of relationship. Sex would be different. And , oh my gosh, I just remembered that I eat mostly with a tube. How sexy is that? NOT! I haven't even been in a restaurant in months. I can't drink right now. Maybe a sip. I would be a horrible date. Who on earth would want to go out with someone who eats through a tube?! What was I thinking? Of course, maybe there's a man out there who also eats through a tube. Oh, that is just so NOT romantic. I think I'd better drop this entire fantasy until I've healed up a bit and don't take pain pills anymore and can go out and have a little shrimp cocktail in a proper restaurant. On the other hand there is a woman that I truly admire whose husband died when she was in her mid fifties and she's now almost ninety and she was never with another man for more than a few dates and she's had a pretty damn good life without a steady man and now that I'm thinking I know plenty of women who do just fine with friends and family and after all I did have a marriage and a family and it was fun and some people don't even get that so what am I whining about? I'm whining because, let's face it, I am a whiner. Awwwwww. Poor me. Poor wittle me. (and yes the w is on purpose.) Here is one thing I try not to do...Look at other people I think are happy and resent them. Hate them, really. How come they have a good life and get to be happy and blahblahblah? Because sometimes I get so pissed off that all of this happened to me later in life instead of early in life so I have to rush to figure out how to make things work out so I don't end my life in misery. Even if I didn't have cancer to deal with I wouldn't have that much time left to get to the really happy place again but with this asshole cancer thing it makes time seem even more pressing. I'VE GOT TO BE HAPPY AND SOON DAMMIT. I've got to figure out what makes me happy and just do that and the damn thing was that I WAS happy and then poof the big cloud came down and covered my world and then, of course, I started taking these mind altering pills and they really screwed with my happiness levels but at least I am aware of them.
Dr. Wong is my acupuncturist. He works with Dr. Mao and one of his specialties is cancer and chemo. He assures me he can get me back to happiness. I haven't been good about drinking my chinese tea and that is really stupid because if I had been drinking it this whole time I probably would have felt much better. But now I'm going to be consistent and drink the damn tea and get my acupuncture every week and after the last two chemos I'm going back to the vitamin drip and you know, I feel better just thinking about doing that. AND maybe I'll swim and do yoga. Can you imagine? Maybe I can actually get a semblance of my life back. Fuck men, except for Cedric. Oh, and maybe a couple others. I'm not a man hater. My son is a great guy and he's a man. But what I'm saying, and it's something I knew long ago, is that I don't a need a man to make me happy. I didn't actually meet THE man until I was in my mid thirties and I was happy before I met him so I shall be happy again. Myths. It's all myths and stories, this thing about romance. And yes, it can be wonderful but we all know it can be shitty, too. How many times have you been with a couple who say just awful things to each other. They are together because it's comfortable and a habit but they are so mean to each other and their relationship seems to be built on being mean. "'Oh, Alvin can be so stupid sometime." Substitute Alvin for a hundred names.
But there are nice relationships. I know that. But I think I'll choose to think of the bad relationships because it makes me feel better. Nothing wrong with that, is there? Nothing wrong with trying to feel better. So I'll just imagine that everyone is miserable except me who has this wonderful life with her feeding tube and aren't I lucky to be so thin and bald. I mean, how many women can say that. Thin and bald. Provocative?
Right now I am watching two flies mate. Romance...Right on my coffee table. Actually looks like they're arguing. I think I'm going to imagine that's what is happening. I feel better already.