Have you ever moved, and after looking at your new address you can remember the postal code (or I suppose zip code for some of you) immediately? This is how I feel on writing 2023. The 20s had a rough start to them, now didn’t they? Worldwide union in sickly experience. I feel guilty loving the Plague Inc. game for many years now. I first found it about 12 years ago I believe. It literally has not changed aside from adding different levels like zombie take over, planet of the apes, and so on. Anyways, we are not here to talk about those last couple of years.
What is there to say then? A lot of domestic thoughts. I am in bliss, aside from an ear pain that has decided to rule my week and oh have I ever let it rule. I don’t remember having ear pain like this before. It wakes me up in the middle of the night, and of all the weeks! I had such plans for this week. Such is life. I think often how many years people have survived without the aide of medicine or internet searching. It truly is remarkable how long we have survived, who has survived, and what they experienced. Perhaps we are soft now, or perhaps we just have more time to focus on other things that advance us even further I suppose. Being in pain really is tiresome, and takes up a lot of time and focus. It really isn’t surprising the average life expectancy was around 30-40 for a lot of human history. I don’t think I would have survived that long. Perhaps that is why some people still believe you are so OLD at 30 because, frankly, before you were near your deathbed. A very outdated, but once accurate thought. It takes people a long time to adjust to updated cultural shifts, or so I once learned in a cultural psychology class.
Moving on, Mr. baby is sick, again. I have come to assume he will be attending daycare 50% of the time, due to them sending him home/him being sick. That’s fun. Anytime I coo to others about Mr. baby, I slip in the predicaments and frustrations of the day care situation. They nod, and have a resounding, YES. They understand, going through it as well. A pharmacist, a dental hygienist, a grocery clerk, my family doctor (which is rare to have here in Canada). I complain to everyone about it just to see how many others experience it, frankly. It’s like this well known piece of information I was very ignorant to, until I was in the parental circle of daycare attendees. I was homeschooled until high school, never experienced daycare either. I am learning as I go, oh I am learning deeply, very much so. I have a lot more to say on the whole social construct of this, but this isn’t intended to be a ranting post.
Next, being able to attend the gym finally after four years. FOUR years. Not intentional, circumstantial. How is it time flies faster than the little hummingbird. Sans the ear ache, I have been going regularly, enjoying the faux social interactions, and being forced out of my home. It is way too easy for me to stay home, forget I did not leave, and still find more tasks to do at home. It is a domestic hell level I am very comfy in. With the gym I can fuss over what resistance levels I should do on the bicycle for best efficiency. The best fit exercises for a mesomorph, ponder over my water intake, and track my progress of various statistics. When I became pregnant a few years ago my biggest goal was to make my life as benign, “boring”, and as domestic as possible. So far, so good. The opposite of what my life had been for many years.
I have not written my goals, ideals, and so on yet for the year. There is no rush, but am feeling the hunger to get something down on paper. Before, you know, it’s December again. I looked over a post I made last year and was pleasantly surprised, much of what I had forgotten I intended to do, I actually did do. Because January and February are so mind-numbingly slow in this industry, I suppose it is a good time to do it now. My assumption is everyone got their Christmas credit card bill in January. Then the hot reminder of taxes is fast approaching. Ah, but then, Spring skirts and dresses erase all memories of those worries. I was never a big Christmas person until this last Christmas. Now I am already looking forward to Christmas again. I shoved my fake snow frosted pink Christmas tree into Mr. Baby’s room. Perhaps it will stay there all year. Why not? I told a close friend of mine this and she said she had done the same with her son when he was younger. Then, as Christmas approached, out dragged the Christmas tree from his room. Ta-Dah! I am starting to think you can only get away with this for so many years before the kid polices you on properly letting them decorate a fresh tree or something yearly. I shall let you know.
This is where I leave you today as my ear is hurting a lot and I am going to have a bath.
Xoxo
Chloe