Spring To It!

i am engaged in a project that i regretted about an hour after i began.  i am trying to reduce the amount of paper i have in my life.  doing so involves going through boxes and file folders and scanning and shredding and, finally, a whole lot of trashing.  i thought i was done last weekend, and by done i mean i had scanned a lot, and trashed a lot but seemed to still have a lot.  however, i was wrong.  i went into our storage room in the basement and found a box labelled "documents".  what?  more?!  how is that possible? 

i don't know about you, but i am terrible at throwing things away.  i have found that what i throw away i need a day later; you know, after the trashman has taken it all away.  also, many papers hold a story, a memory, a history and looking at it brings it all back.  if it's gone, is the memory gone?  does it mean it never happened?  oh my, i see how i have boxes and boxes now.  and all this in a tiny new york city apartment. 

so, today, i brought the box up and started going through it.  a few moments ago i came across the beginning of a letter.  it is a letter i wrote to myself years ago, to the future me.   wrote it less than ten years ago and i wrote it to the me ten years in the future.  this is what is on the paper:

Put pen to paper & start writing

Dear Pandave
It's been 10 years and what have i got to say for you, me, us? I won't say it's been easy because I have not always been as brave as I want to be, as honest as I should be, as strong as I dream to be.  I wrote, yes, but not always.  Sometimes it just gets too scary to be that open, no? I am better, though, than I used to be and that must count for something.  You finished the book, no small feat, giving people that window into your soul, let people know how you think, giving them wind of your madness.  But maybe that was the release -

and there the letter ends.  so who knows what else the years ago me thought was important to say to the future me.  or maybe that was exactly it. i mean, that's all i, me, we said.  back to paper.

did i mention that i also started a clothing purge and donation project?

Not Knocked Out Yet

a few weeks ago, i was getting ready for a half marathon.  i got up for my pre-work run and headed out.  i ran around the park, marvelling at just how much snow was still on the ground - i was getting tired of winter running and thinking to myself how i couldn't wait for spring to come.  doesn't it feel like the spring will never come?  especially when the ground is coated in cold-hardened snow.

as i headed back home, i started feeling not so well - my tummy was not so happy with me.  i figured maybe i hadn't had enough to eat or drink before my run.  it gets a tad complicated, trying to fit in a run and food before work - too much food before a run and you feel awful and too little you feel awful.  oh well.  i had a workday to get through and the feeling would pass.

except, it didn't.  i felt progressively worse as the day went on and nothing i did helped.  i just wanted to get the day done and go home to rest and the day seemed so long!  finally it was over and i decided to raise my spirits with some sushi.  that didn't help either and i spent the night with my tummy feeling worse and worse.  i finally conceded defeat early saturday morning and we headed out to the emergency room.  i was so sure they would tell me that i had bad gas and needed to burp or fart, pat me on my embarrassed behind and send me home.

That is not what happened.  instead, i found my doubled over self being admitted and tubes being stuck all over me.  i went from being in denial and insisting i would be home and running errands by noon, to being on a drip and unable to eat or drink anything for four days.  four days.  four days of all my nutritional needs being piped into my body through a tube stuck in my arm and dealing with having a tube down my throat that i was reminded of constantly.  four days of waiting and hoping all of that would work because the alternative was more surgery and another belly scar is not on my to do list. 

relief came at the end of those four days as the throat tube was removed (hence the huge smile above) as was the threat of surgery.  a day and a half later i was home!  hallelujah, home!! oh and eating and drinking again.  i had parsnip soup that was the most delicious thing i had ever eaten in my life.  joy, relief, happiness.

sadly, i wasn't energised enough to run my race - a week of no real food can do that to a person.  but happily, i am back and healthy and strong and still only counting 2 belly scars; not enough for anyone to play tic tac toe on just yet.