I haven’t been out of my apartment for days, mostly due to hibernating through this petrifyingly bitter cold spell, nursing my pride balloon of a face (it’s down to mostly yellow now), but always on call should Avdi find a moment between crises to pry me out.  I’m ashamed to say I’m relieved he didn’t, only because I’m irrationally paranoid of cold.  Also, my face was seriously scary, like a psycho-clown.  I know, no excuse.

But I haven’t been completely dormant; in fact, I’ve been using this opportunity to get myself and “house” more in order.  With food staples (and funds for it) dwindling, I’m trying to get my diet more balanced with what I have to work with.  With my income even lower in the new year due to medical premiums and expenses, utility assistance ending (again, thanks to MO which thinks I have money?!), and having to dip into my meager savings for medical bills, I will literally have nothing left for groceries, unless a private food assistance program comes through.  I’m already keeping my heat down to chilly, to be able to afford it.  Not complaining, just the facts.

Also, I finally dragged out the dreaded boxes of old files to sort through and reduce (again).  I’m making good progress, a little at a time.  I’m also doing housecleaning and organizing .  My goal is to leave as little behind to dispose of as possible, and make sure it’s in order and self-explanatory.  If you’ve followed my Blahg for a while, you’ll know which daunting experience (hint: Vortex Of Evil) inspired this dust devil of activity.  Never again!

My circumstances make it difficult to get involved in any proactive social or political action, but it’s hard to live in this state for long without being pushed to say something against all the fascist inhumane bills being passed.  The seven (!) [update–correction–nine!] anti-trans bills being considered just today are particularly heinous and cruel.  So I sent my humble opinions online to the state gov, to add to all the testimonies being heard.  Hopefully they will be heard.

One of my challenges when alone is talking to (in whatever form) one person per day.  Some weeks my only conversations, other than with the family if I’m there, is with volunteer drivers and medical personnel.  I don’t count unpleasant phone exchanges with bored state gov drones.  I haven’t solved this dilemma yet, but I will.  In the meantime, conversations with myself are always fine and worthwhile.

Anyway, until my son can dig out from under the heavy landfill of life long enough to coax me out of hiding, here I’ll be, trying to seize the time that’s left.  Leukemia be damned.

Arnold Lobel, F&T All Year