The Sunday before Super Bowl

Welp, it’s the Sunday a week before the Super Bowl, which means there’s absolutely nothing on television so I’m watching pre-olympic figure skating with the sound off, pretending I’m the one picking the music for every skater.

Having that job has been my fantasy ever since I saw someone skating to Great Gig in the Sky thirty years ago and thought to myself, “This is so beautiful, why doesn’t everyone do this?” instead of the hokey Broadway tunes  or bland elevator music classical they usually skate to. Watching a beautiful woman sensually move to Pink Floyd was a whole new level of art.

So yeah, that’s what I did today, and my husband obliged me by playing the music I wanted while I watched tv.

Right now Nathan Chen doesn’t know it, but he’s skating to Theme from Local Hero by Mark Knopfler.

I’m doing it this way from now on, it was fantastic and bonus points, I didn’t have to listen to Johnny Weir and Tara Lipinski or hear any more music from CATS.

Actually, other than sports and the Food Network, I am not watching television at all. I’m having such anxiety over Donald Trump, I’m making myself sick.

WHY THE ACTUAL FUCK IS HE STILL HERE?

Sigh.

In other news, my new novel, Leaving Candyland, is still out in submission land. I remain hopeful, which is unlike me :).  I just think it’s a sweet book that has a happy ending and a moral — change comes with aging and it doesn’t have to be negative, in fact, as I’m finding out daily in retirement, it’s pretty cool.

I dunno, I think I am going to get an acceptance email any day now.

Any dayyyyyyy…

Probably the most important thing I’ve learned in *old* age is that I now accept I can’t control anything that happens…the only thing I can control is my reaction.  I admit to saying it to myself every time I get sad, like when I remember the kids live thousands of miles away.

I dunno, lately I have been realizing that Gary and I aren’t going to be around forever. It’s sobering to know that every day is a gift now and we can’t take anything for granted. Even if a miracle occurs, we have 20 more years tops, but let’s face it, Gary smokes and I have congestive heart failure. We’re going to be very lucky to have ten more healthy years.

Very, very lucky.

I never felt old before, but Gary’s 70th birthday somehow changed everything, and it’s a real struggle not to be anxious.

So I write.  I write and I write and I write. And I try to avoid catastrophic thinking.

But it’s hard.

I know the pandemic changed me, too.  I still can’t believe it happened and you know what, I was gonna talk about that but it would be breaking my other new rule, which is don’t visit the past or the future, stay firmly in the present. 

So yeah, I’m writing another new novel and a short story because I got a crazy idea and it’s fun so all good.

I just wish spring would get here but hey hey it’s just five weeks until daylight saving time!

I’m rambling, I just wanted to post something here and not Facebook where I’m too lazy to reply to comments today 😂

Anyway, this is actually going to be an exciting week for my son. I will pop by on Wednesday with some news.

Peace and love.