I'm back.

Yes, I am back.:)

As would probably be expected, I don't return on a high. After all, it really has been a hell-ified ride/two months.

To go completely out of order, the cruise was lovely. It was really nice to go to warm, happy locations, to be in a place entirely different than usual life. Wow, the timing of everything has been wonderful. And there is no joy in that last sentence. Tidy and convenient does not make a loved one's passing any easier or better. I would prefer that Dad was checking up on my blog and that I could talk to him. That we could have done something to keep this from happening.

I hope I don't have to return to Dad's other state (to say 'home state' wouldn't be right, since that's the one I do live in and not the far off one he was banished to late in life). It's depressante, a small town, with small minds and my Dad was the bipolar pack rat with MANY interests - my work there (going through all his things with most things being donated) was hell, body and soul. My knees never ached so much my whole life. My back hurt, not just from the lower but all the way up. I wished to find a tiny asian person to step on my back for me. Never did a person deserve a damn back massage and frankly I still haven't got one. I don't know what that was about, but I felt 92 there.

His cat I had to hand over to the only people I could find that were at all enlightened. You see, in Hellville, there's a feral cat on every lawn and no comprehension or desire to have an indoor cat that is kept safe, fed, or treated well. I thought it was an uphill battle to get proper homes in my area. There, its not only unheard of, but people literally see no reason to do right for cats. And Dad was an intelligent guy, and a loving one and his cat was taken care of - never stepped outside his apartment ever, and so on. She also had special significance in my mind as she was the only other living soul to be there when Dad's soul left his body and this earth. I'm just going to say that it would be hard for anyone to be good enough for that cat, but luckily the people who have her now have some incentive - the Dad in their family is an EMT and was there that day and attempted to resuscitate my Dad. I don't think that's too hard for even a dumb yokel to get the picture and treat the cat well. Thankfully. Because I tried to get her back. But they were too sneaky for me. Bastards.

Well, the next thing for me personally is the one thing that has been important for a while. Oh you haven't heard about this? Yes you have! The important are always the HARD things that keep creeping up, over and over and over again. If it matters, its an uphill constant problem. Of course you know that!!

Yes, I'm back to working on losing weight. You see, my dumb ass husband, with about as much thoughtfulness asked me for the fortimillionth time last night, "Why you gotta hog?" in reference to my evening snacking. He did this one in front of a friend. Oh I don't know, I got pissed. I am pissed. So, for my own reasons I am using the same power (willpower.) used to quit smoking, to simply say no to food. Certainly at night. And I'll be using it dayside too. I spent countless time with my Weight Watcher's food tracker this evening. It took me so long to discover where the part was that I could type my blah blah notes in that I was breaking out in frustrating tears. Let it be noted. I'm losing the weight this time. And I don't even care if it takes the latent anorexic abilities that I am sure lie within me to complete the job. Now, if you just googled anorexic and found yourself here, I can do nothing but laugh at you because I'm the fattest anorexic you've ever seen. But hey, we have to start somewhere. I'm not surprised I'm such a late bloomer either. After all, the illness (bipolar) screwed the timing for everything in my life, why should anorexia not start at 35? I'm not trendy, I'm in it for the results.

When I get all my books that I picked out from Dad's 3,000 or so - that is no lie - I might be a source of help and spiritual understanding to many, since those were my favorites amongst his things. He liked to call it 'mental magic,' I just call it Dad's self help section of his personal librabry. I also will have several hundred photos - a scrapbook opportunity that only a disabled bipolar with no job could have the time to relish the making of. I'm proud to say that of the many other religions Dad looked at and researched he unmistakably was interested in the Bible, as he well should - my Grandma taught him right - and I'll be able to study the tome until *I* die since he's got great stuff on that. I love his books on organization, procrastination - you know all the stuff that did him such great good. Sigh.