I can do this! Day 1

I start this, my 8th NaBloPoMo (National Blog Post Month), with significant trepidation. Pretty much like I do every November 1 when I look at my busy life and I doubt I'll fulfill my commitment to post every day of the month. And yet, somehow I reach the finish line every. Single. Year. Or so I thought until I looked back at last year.

In that way our brains have of telling us the story we want to tell ourselves, I thought I had successfully finished NaBloPoMo all of the last seven years. I forgot my epic failure of 2017 when I flew home to Iowa for my mom's 80th birthday party in the middle of the month and didn't post another NaBloPoMo post after. I wanted to. I took my laptop and my intentions, but once I got there, spending time with my family and sleep seemed more important. So I enjoyed Mom's birthday party and our family Thanksgiving the next day, flew back home to Dayton and did Thanksgiving here and then .... I have no idea what happened to the rest of the month.

Epic fail. And yet, I have no regrets. My mom died this year on September 5, just a few weeks ago, and I'm glad I spent my time celebrating her life with her last year instead of trying to keep up here.

This year will be tougher though. I'm raising my 7-year-old granddaughter Coraline, my daughter Elvira moved in with us temporarily (although not as temporarily as we thought) with her two dogs and two cats just a couple of weeks before my mom had her last stroke. I flew to Iowa for two weeks to be with Mom as she died and for the funeral, then drove the 700 miles back to divide up her belongings and clean out the house and such not long after. I spent three out of six weeks in the towns where I grew up while trying to keep running on the treadmill that is my life, and I still haven't had a chance to really process (I kind of hate that word, but I can't think of a better one) my mom's death. I just know I miss her, and I'm glad I could be with her when she passed on from this life.

So I expect I will write about that experience. And I also expect I will toss out a few rants about politics, because everything is about fucking politics these days. One of the reasons I haven't been writing here much is because I don't know how to write about the things I love to write about -- vaginas and handy-penises and stupid humans -- while the Titanic is tanking all around me and life is so very serious. I will try though. I'm making the promise, even though I don't have much faith in my ability to keep it. I don't function as well on four hours of sleep as I used to. 

One thing that helps me and inspires me is your comments. Most of them end up on Facebook these days, which is cool and gratifying and, hey, I just like knowing somebody is reading my little words. It's lonely here at my computer by myself late at night. However, those comments aren't permanent like the ones you post right here below my posts. I promise I will answer each and every one .... but no pressure. Nope. No pressure at all.

Also, if there's a topic you'd like to see me weigh in on, let me know. I'll do my best.

Right now, like a lot of people, I'm just doing the best I can and trying not to beat myself up about the many things that fall through the cracks. Between my various part-time jobs and single parenting and all these pooping and eating animals and the hours I spend in my van every day and Netflix (oh, c'mon. You watched The Haunting of Hill House too) and the occasional party and karaoke night and why did I buy this big old house again? And the hot flashes .... oh, don't even get me started. And now I'm doing this?

I need another glass of wine. See you tomorrow.

Reticula out.