So, called my doctor’s office today and had a much better experience.  The good news?  I should have steroids and a rescue inhaler by the end of the day.  In the meantime, I’m relying on OTC/homeopathic remedies to help me sit tight.  We’re pretty sure this is all asthma-related–that it basically finally had a hissy fit when that cold hit.  The bad news? It sounds like it’s going to need to be managed more closely, which means more time at the doctor.  And I’m feeling progressively worse as the day goes on.  Just exhausted and still not breathing right.

I’m kind of not surprised that the asthma has flared up.  It seems that, since the surgery, if I’ve had any lingering health problems, they’ve made themselves known.  I guess massive stress does that.  It’s good because these things needed to be addressed–and were on my list–but not the greatest of timing.  I want to move forward with the next chapter of my life, but my body is telling me to stop and rest.  To literally catch my breath.  And, welp, when you can’t breathe, you kinda have no choice but to listen.

It’s good, in a way, because it reinforces everything I’ve been trying to transition into: namely, being right with myself.  Taking good care of myself.  Listening to my body.  Listening to my heart.  Finding a path that works for me.  I’ve never been so good at these things, so I guess this is the Universe being supportive.

However, it’s one more delay to deal with.  Can’t organize the apartment now that I have time because of dust and dander.  Can’t exercise because my asthma is almost always exercise induced.  Can’t schedule a lot for fear of having to reschedule.  So, rather than get frustrated, I’ve decided to take the rest of this week to just breathe.  My plan is to read lots of David Foster Wallace and edit some photos.  Maybe do some stuff with the blog.  And sleep.  Because, Good God, I’m tired.


Sunday, I forced myself to leave the apartment and headed up to Boulder for an eTown event with Ari Hest.  I’ve had a massive crush on the guy since, like, 2002.  I was able to sit in the front row and got some great (for once!) iPhone shots.  Forgot my DSLR at home.  Doubt they would have let me take photos with it, anyway.  It was a good show and another thing to cross off my Mighty List.  Expect more on both of those things at some point this week.  Despite my self-imposed rest time, I’m actually a little busy, so it may not be till the weekend.  And I might have more good news by then too.  Fingers crossed.

So, now that I’ve kicked that update to the curb, it’s time for something a bit different.  I feel like this blog is getting heavy again, and that was never my intention.  Heavy is okay, I guess, but there needs to be levity here and there.  I’ve always intended for this blog–and every blog I’ve maintained–to be more of a place of exploration and celebration than introspection.  I’m prone to introspection, and for some reason–when writing–I can be a lot more serious than I am in person.  I’m going to try to incorporate a more well-rounded view of life here soon.  More funny anecdotes from my conversations with friends or scenes from Colfax (oh, man, there was a doozy the other day).  More poetry.  More photos.  More talk about business-y things and nonprofit-y things and things that make me smile.  Maybe a few guest posts from my cats.  Like that.  Who knows?  I’m sure I’ll rant about politics somewhere in there, too.  While it’s important to unravel feelings related to work and illness, I’m just dead tired of talking about it.  We’ll see how it goes.

I snatched this from my friend Lindsay’s blog.  She’s brilliant and all kinds of awesome, so do pay her a visit.

Happy Tuesday, y’all!


  • i am: a human being, female, too short, a phoenix, a kitty mama, a conscience, a voice, a world citizen, a skeptical believer, aspiring, getting there, a daughter, freckled, healing, a lifelong student, wandering, purposefully lost, trying, sometimes irrationally difficult, well-intentioned, the girl with her heart on her sleeve, still here, falling down, a master at getting back up, your weary smile.
  • i think: too much, and then too little…sometimes vice versa; always; about the divide between who i am and who i was supposed to be; there’s more; i can.
  • i know: nothing.  Everything.  I know.  (shut up).
  • i have: more curiosity than energy, most days. i have made mistakes, but i own them.  i have walked some interesting roads.  i still have some stories to tell.
  • i hate: hate, cigarette smoke, people (sometimes…often…love them just as much), in-between, lima beans, liver, burning rubber.  the sound of a bone breaking.  how alone i sometimes feel.  how fragile life is.  black licorice. 100 degree days.
  • i don’t: care what you drive.  i don’t want to be your anything.  i don’t want to care so much, but i do.  i don’t do anything halfway. sometimes, i don’t get it. i don’t always want to either.
  • i can’t: stop going once i start.  i can’t ride a bike.  i can’t do four chin-ups.  i can’t really whistle.  i can’t pretend.  i can’t forget.
  • i can: choose something else.  i can teach you a few things about polymers and chicken salad.  i can do anything, if i really want to.  question is: do I want to?  i can hold things with my toes, bend my legs around my own neck, and fish braid.  i can sing, if try–but i’d rather laugh at how ridiculously bad i can be if i really put some effort into it.  i can always laugh.
  • i will: do what i need to do, when i need to do it–whether i know about it or not.  i will say something mean or stupid–and feel bad.  i will get up tomorrow and try my best.  i will always remember.  i will regret some things and learn from them.  i will be there for you when you need me, even if it doesn’t seem like it.  i will hold grudges and forgive you instantly–if you just say you’re sorry.
  • i won’t: dishonor my family.  be less than who i truly am…though i might have a few questionable moments.  i won’t do your bidding if i don’t believe in you.  i won’t take the easy road. i won’t give up.
  • i miss: my parents. sitting on a porch in the middle of july with some iced tea and good company.  i miss how grass smells when you’re asleep in it.  i miss being needed.  i miss being really little and how staying up late felt like someone shared some awesome secret.  i miss sand between my toes.  i miss autumn and walking in the crunchy leaves.
  • i fear: dying like she did.
  • i feel: exhausted, grateful, broke, humble, lazy, achy, anxious.
  • i hear: the humidifier whirring, the breeze outside, air conditioning.
  • i smell: summer. and cough drops: cherry.
  • i crave: simplicity, ease, connections, acceptance, forgiveness, hope, truth, water, ocean breezes, gin & tonics, clear lungs, paid bills, elsewhere, certainty.
  • i wonder: about everything…what you see, if what i see has any merit, where i’ll end up, where you’ll end up, how things work, what things should happen
  • i regret: everything and nothing, mostly at the same time.
  • i love: most things.  my family. my friends. my kitties. my state.  my Keen sandals. how cool it feels when my body actually works as it should–how amazing and resilient it can be.  bright colors. bold flavors. being outside. pineapple. watermelon. autumn and spring and even summer.  details. random conversations. music. dancing. swimming. lotion.  words. photography.  yep.  all of it.
  • i dream: while awake.
  • i long: to get off the hamster wheel.
  • i care: too much.
  • i’m always: seeking, dehydrated, playing catch with myself, trying to explain, apologizing.
  • i am not: your yes girl, easy, or nice.
  • i believe: in not taking my beliefs too seriously. i believe people are good. i believe in ice cream.
  • i sing: like i mean it, often off-key…on-purpose.
  • i smile: more than anything else. like i have a secret.
  • i collect: people, memories, stories, postcards, ticket stubs, and hats.
  • i play: with everything.
  • i write: when i’m moved to, to heal myself. without rules or goals.
  • i await: nothing. i’ve always been bad at waiting. i tend to jump the gun.
  • i cook: rarely, lately. but i’m working on fixing that.
  • i trust: randomly. sometimes, trust is hard-won with me. sometimes, it’s automatic. i rarely know why.
  • i intend: too many things, so i’m not intending anymore…i’m just doing.
  • i search: everywhere, for people i’ve lost; feelings i want to reclaim; old versions of some other me i’ve lost along the way.
  • i look: for the good in all things.  to tomorrow, always. like my dead grandmother.
  • i shout: because i can. more often than i used to.  on mountaintops. during arguments. because i’m alive, and i need you to hear me. even though shouting rarely accomplishes that.
  • i whisper: love yous. snarky jokes. secrets. pep talks.
  • i conquer: everything i feel like tackling. bring it.
  • i listen: less attentively than i think i do.  selectively, i guess, would be the world. for what isn’t said.
  • i ignore: nothing. which probably gets me in trouble more often than not. it’s hard for me to let little things go.  if someone’s mean, i see it and note it.  i may not say anything, but i remember it.  and yep…i judge.
  • i like: entirely too many things.
  • i live: bravely (i hope), with purpose, true to myself, unapologetically–which can often seem insensitive or random to people my decisions affect.  and i rarely take the time to explain it all.  i tend to decide and move–not looking back.

One thought on “onward!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: