Well, I had a reasonable run of a few days without crying. No tears! Well, except maybe for watching The Newsroom (which could make me cry out of frustration) as they usually manage to hit a liberal nerve every episode that starts me to tears for a moment. That's kind of the knee-jerk cat-or-dog-food-isn't-that-sweet?-or-something cry.
I'll just be pleased I to have had some days of less emotional pain. And even though I have cried pretty deeply and must now clean my glasses of salt residue, I am not prostrate or self-destructive or anything.
I was feeling semi-okay yesterday when I realized that it is time for my car to be inspected again. That's money that I had neither budgeted for nor have. NY State is relentless about inspection stickers and the "fix-it" ticket is not a minor amount of moolah. But the other thing that upsets me and threatens to undermine that delicate and nascent sense of ... well, not well-being, bien-être, ... more like a breathable okayness, a sense that the wolf was not POUNDING on the door ... you never know what is incoming. And lately it is rarely good. It is not as if I have experienced largesse-a-go-go.
Such is life on the edge. I can't even afford to sit in my out-of-town sanctuary room without spending money, needing money.
I was chatting with my mom who has been having some trouble with her back and hips, which is certainly understandable at 85. Her chiropractor had suggested a two-month regime of thrice-weekly sessions and some other exercise. Although my mom was somewhat reluctant (not to say recalcitrant) to make the commitment, she decided to go ahead with it. I said, "You don't want to lose your mobility." And then we rung off as I was crying and she had an appointment to get to.
She called back to observe that the mobility issue is one I might consider. She said that there are different kinds of mobility, emotional, spiritual, attitudinal (besides economic and social, of course) and that I might want to sit with that.