tinhuviel: (Sick Ren)

Thanks to my wacked-out health, there was an incident last Sunday that landed me in an extended stay hotel until yesterday morning. As documented on my Facebook, I ended up with Blake's cold a couple of weeks ago. Since 2015, I don't just get to have a simple cold and be done with it, no. I end up with secondary infections and my sleep patterns and behaviour are almost always affected. That means I sleepwalk. After the cold began to wane, I developed some sort of viral infection under my tongue. I caved and went to the doctor about that last Friday. He gave me some lidocaine for the pain and told me to ride it out for about a week, at which time, it should be getting better. But it wasn't just that. A knot - infection? lymph gland? who knows? - began growing behind my left ear. I felt generally unwell. The next thing I remember, Janice is driving me to Crossland Suites. She thought I had over-taken some of my medication and, when she couldn't find it in my stuff, was not going to be convinced otherwise. I was so sick and out of it, I was incapable of explaining what I had done with my meds, and had no way to show her that all was in order, because I'd repacked everything a couple of days prior, along with the meds I'd had moved from San Diego to here. It was an effort in poor organisation. The next day, I Uber'd to the closest CVS and had them check my temp at the minute clinic. My throat was on fire, and I felt delusional, and couldn't think straight. I had a fever of 103. I got some aspirin and juice, and went back to the hotel to die. Then I lost my voice for three days.

Fortunately, I began to recover from this nightmare on Thursday.  Friday was the big day of the move, so I had to be at least marginally functional!  When Friday came, my voice was back, my mouth had recovered almost completely, and my throat was only a little scratchy.  I was still weak and underwhelmed, but I was present and accounted for.

It's been slow going like you wouldn't believe with the unpacking process.  I don't have furniture to put things on, and I don't want to put stuff on the floor, in the event Toby decides he wants to mark something, like an asshole, so I'm having to pick and choose what I pull out for right now.  Today, I wanted to smudge the apartment, and set up a little bit of sacred space in the bedroom, but I can't find my supplies and incense.  I've gone through everything and can't find an inkling of Witchery anywhere.  But I did find the prescriptions I'd consolidated!  I called Janice to let her know and, when I see her, I'm gonna show her what I'd done and why it looked so bad, when she went to check on my medicinal intake.  I also apologised for acting so wonky.  I really could not help it, though!

Yesterday, I got a delivery of cheese garlic bread and a Pepsi, which I have been subsisting on for almost 24 hours. About an hour ago, I did something I had not done since 2013: I used a pot and cooked soup on a real stove. To most, I guess this is no big deal but, for me, it's truly a momentous occasion that means several things.  It means that I'm more self-sufficient now that I have been in years.  It means I can begin to eat properly and have more variety in my life as a crap foodie.  It means that I am going to save a huge amount of money on food, because I have so much storage space, a whole damned fridge, and the ability to prepare food rather than depending on prepackaged junk food.  Cooking that soup on a stove top, in my own pot, with my own spoon, means that I am free.  It also means that Gordon Ramsay will have one more vegetarian pseudo-cook to rail at for existing, and daring to darken the sacred doors of a kitchen!

Of course, I could not have gotten to this mini-milestone, had it not been for the kind souls of my Tribe and our extended clan.  Were I able, I would cook up a flipping cauldron of soup and share it with you all, as we party as hard as a pack of introverts could!


Apr. 27th, 2017 08:02 pm
tinhuviel: (Default)

They say that home is where the heart is. If that's the case, I'm headed home no later than the 9th of May, where I shall find my heart resting in the mists of the Smoky Mountains.

At 6:30 this morning, my phone rang.  It was Janice. She had heard from the lawyer, who told her that a Tracy Evans had a $14,000.00 lien on her name, and had been so since 2009. He told Janice that he'd need my social security number to compare with his records, to verify that the Tracy Evans in question was not, in fact, me. Well, I'd already read up on Ms. Evans when I did my own documents search at the Clerk of Court's website. This Tracy lives in Boiling Springs, a town I've only visited like 6 times total. Anyway, I gave her my social security number and we hung up so she could provide the info to her lawyer.

About 15 minutes later, my phone rang again, and it was Janice, again.  The lawyer did his comparison dealio, confirming that my name is in the clear. She said that, if she could get Johnna to watch Uncle Michael long enough for her to dash up to Duncan, she would go ahead and transfer the money to my account.

Waves of relief washed over me in that instance! I continued to get ready and head in to the outpatient program, and it took me hardly any time at all, thanks to that bounce that suddenly showed up in my step! My fellow outpatient attendees were all super jacked at my good news, but none more so than I!  By the time IOP was completed for the day, I checked my bank to find the transfer of funds was in process. Tomorrow, it should be available, so I can proceed with the items I need to purchase for the move, as well as get my plane tickets and maybe even pack up one big box of my stuff and ship it on to Janice ahead of myself and the beasties.

Needless to say, I have offered up multitudinous thanks to the Paniverse*, the Goddess, Elementals, and any other unseen critters who were in attendance at my big honkin' fundage acquisition magickal working, the first spellwork I had attempted since 2009. I deconstructed my money mojo bag, clearing any stones I'd used, and scattering the herbs, roots, and wax beneath the eucalyptus tree.  I buried the bag, along with the parchment stating my intent and need, at the base of the tree.  I did the same with the herbal sachet, scattering the herbs, giving thanks, and burying the bag.  I feel more at peace right now than I have since before 2011.  And it's not just relief at now having the money to move, no, it's a deeper peace than mere relief.  It's the peace one feels when they know in the very marrow of their bones, that the path they are taking is the right one, because everything occurring whilst on that path happens at exactly the right time, or happens in spite of all improbability.  It's the peace of recognising synchronicity and welcoming it into your life.  The kind of peace you experience when you return home, or know you will be.  That is the peace I am feeling, and it is marvelous in every way.

There is a shit tonne of stuff I need to get done, and I have little time left in which to do it.  But I shall prevail! After spending two weeks barely holding myself together from stress and worry, I feel there is nothing I can't do at this time and place in my life.  Of course, I'm not stupid enough to put that to the test.


*Kind of like the One Ring of universes, the Paniverse is all verses, and the one reality that can dictate all others that reside within it.

August 2017

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