watch
We, that is to say, I, I don't know about anyone else, but I was hoping that we would move yesterday to what is supposed to be our fourth and final postHurricane temporary residence, three months, mid-December to mid-March when spring break season begins and all is booked up, and either 7H will be habitable or we will have to try a different situation.
We didn't move yesterday, did we, obvious or I wouldn't be talking about not having moved, would I, and it's now supposed to be tomorrow, into a different building of this resort complex at the east end of where 30A meets US98.
Every time we've moved, circumstance has improved, IDK, maybe that will be the case this time also, a more peaceful view, for example, although this is fine, has been and is fine, okay, good. Traffic outside if one cares to watch. I would out on the balcony but that the weather is too cool comfortably to sit out for long. Maybe the next outlook will be down a shady street.
Quiet, it's quiet here, traffic sounds are nil except for the rare emergency vehicle. The only noticeable traffic sound is the occasional driver's winding up gears as s/he accelerates away from the traffic light.
Watching myself and bothered by what I'm seeing nowadays brought me to search, find, open and read an article early this morning. https://www.nimh.nih.gov/health/topics/post-traumatic-stress-disorder-ptsd/index.shtml It seems important, especially at this age and in this Time of double jeopardy, to keep a watchful eye on oneself. "Watch" is a byword for Advent anyway, and with what everyone has noticed but may not put down as psychological trauma, it seems apt to keep watch lest one fail to catch oneself going off bonkers.
For me, I'm noticing: that I'm content with a few things instead of many. One belt, a pair of shoes, a few sets of underwear, two or three shirts, a couple pairs of black pants, a jacket, a sweater that my mother made for me long years ago. But for my toiletries, computer, phone and a blanket, nothing around that I own. My car's not been driven in over two months except to move it in the HV garage to keep the tires from uniting with the pavement. I'm wanting to avoid being bothered overseeing the reassembly of 7H, it's a godawful mess, you can have it and do what you will with it, I couldn't care less, I'm wanting never to return there, I just want a place like this but smaller and in which I have no personal stake and where nobody knows me. I'll wear dark glasses and a wig. I've been online shopping 1BR apartments and there aren't any.
So what's my problem, and remember, this is my blog, not a forum, all questions are me asking myself, for me alone to ponder, not for someone to psych me out. They're only shareable and shared in case someone else also is being bothered by living in a sudden and unprepared situation with questions that have no answers but watch, wait, hang on, cling to.
T
We didn't move yesterday, did we, obvious or I wouldn't be talking about not having moved, would I, and it's now supposed to be tomorrow, into a different building of this resort complex at the east end of where 30A meets US98.
Every time we've moved, circumstance has improved, IDK, maybe that will be the case this time also, a more peaceful view, for example, although this is fine, has been and is fine, okay, good. Traffic outside if one cares to watch. I would out on the balcony but that the weather is too cool comfortably to sit out for long. Maybe the next outlook will be down a shady street.
Quiet, it's quiet here, traffic sounds are nil except for the rare emergency vehicle. The only noticeable traffic sound is the occasional driver's winding up gears as s/he accelerates away from the traffic light.
Watching myself and bothered by what I'm seeing nowadays brought me to search, find, open and read an article early this morning. https://www.nimh.nih.gov/health/topics/post-traumatic-stress-disorder-ptsd/index.shtml It seems important, especially at this age and in this Time of double jeopardy, to keep a watchful eye on oneself. "Watch" is a byword for Advent anyway, and with what everyone has noticed but may not put down as psychological trauma, it seems apt to keep watch lest one fail to catch oneself going off bonkers.
For me, I'm noticing: that I'm content with a few things instead of many. One belt, a pair of shoes, a few sets of underwear, two or three shirts, a couple pairs of black pants, a jacket, a sweater that my mother made for me long years ago. But for my toiletries, computer, phone and a blanket, nothing around that I own. My car's not been driven in over two months except to move it in the HV garage to keep the tires from uniting with the pavement. I'm wanting to avoid being bothered overseeing the reassembly of 7H, it's a godawful mess, you can have it and do what you will with it, I couldn't care less, I'm wanting never to return there, I just want a place like this but smaller and in which I have no personal stake and where nobody knows me. I'll wear dark glasses and a wig. I've been online shopping 1BR apartments and there aren't any.
So what's my problem, and remember, this is my blog, not a forum, all questions are me asking myself, for me alone to ponder, not for someone to psych me out. They're only shareable and shared in case someone else also is being bothered by living in a sudden and unprepared situation with questions that have no answers but watch, wait, hang on, cling to.
T