Kage Baker would have told me today: “Brace up, kiddo! You’ve got things to do and it’s almost Christmas and there’s no profit in lying around feeling sorry for yourself. Get up and do something while you can!”
And she’d be right. Okay, so I spent yestreday in a total funk, wading hopelessly through the Slough of Despond, wailing and carrying on. All that accomplished was to scare all my good friends and Dear Readers, and several of you are probably guilty of Venial Sins of Intent and Athene’s head is about to blow up. Kimberly is muttering murder, and I think even the cats are upset – someone shredded a lot of Medi-Cal papers on my desk today, and there is evidence of tiny feet having danced triumphantly in the rubble …
That brought me to my senses. There is no use sinking further and further into despair. Yes, there’s a delay and it’s upsetting – but a little delay, while infuriating and full of bad memories of Kage’s doomed fight, will not actually hurt me. I have my doctor’s word on that. A week won’t hurt, she said. Maybe not even a month. And we’ll you have in in surgery before that.
So I will fight on, and when I have to wait a day or two for an answer: well, I can do that, too. I talked to a remarkably intelligent (and intelligible) young woman today, who told me exactly who to call on Tuesday next, and where my paperwork is in the system. I even got her name – Anahid, which means the moon goddess – Diana the huntress. Gotta be a good omen.
So, I apologize to everyone for being in such a black pit yestreday. There are bound to be some walls in this business, just waiting for the easily-distracted runner to hit them. I hit several this week. The delays, the season, my diagnosis – all too much, for a little while there. I’m better now. I hope you will all forgive me.
There is such a lot of good stuff around me! I have 2 pounds of See’s chocolate, thanks to Kimberly who started her own day with a daring dawn run to the Glendale Galleria. I have all my shopping done, which is simply amazing; still gotta wrap, but that’s easy. Even with the little black cat helping … we have completed our dinner shopping and come home with a 10-pound prime rib roast: gonna be all the roast beef of Olde England around here on Christmas Day! I shall make Yorkshire puddings, the little gorgeous individual ones everybody likes best, like golden flying saucers; Kimberly, who shares with Kage a talent for steamed puddings, will make one of her deadly good chocolate ones for dessert.
The weather is beautiful. The lights are all lit. The world is turning back into the light, and I am coming with it, by whatever god you care to honour at this midwinter feast.
Now I’m off to eat marzipan and bread pudding, and watch the fire leap in the fireplace. Life goes on. Me, too.