The wait

Waiting, and trying not to wait.   

On one hand, I know that my upcoming ablation is probably going to make me feel like a normal person once again, thus the "wait", on the other hand, I hate making my life be about "the wait".  If that makes any sense.     The med regimen that the cardiologist has me on seems to be keeping the A Fib in check, but the side effects are a crappy trade off.  

I'm exhausted.

I get short of breath doing the simplest of things.

I'm mostly distracted.

Trying not to be a slug.

I get a few things done each day, trust me, not much.   I pace myself, simply because I have no choice.

Somehow this crazy drawing spree I'm on is calming to me.

My house.

The Baptist church, same vintage as my house, a few doors down the road.

The house I raised my kids in when they were really young, and yes, we had horses.

My little country house in Putnam Station, where I thought I would live forever.  How life 

surprises you sometimes, eh?

This is the back of my house now, the barn used to be there on the left,  right up

close to the house.

So far I have a folder of drawings......except for the ones of houses I have lived in, or the houses my kids live in,  they are made up.  And some of them are strangely alike,

almost as if I am trying to get this little village right.

After every one, I keep saying, "ok, that's it.  I've done enough."   

And I really think that I'm done.

Then the next night, I cannot seem to stop myself, and I'm at it again.

I'm kind of weirdly obsessed. 

I suppose there are worse things.  

I have even tried drawing other things......but nope, little houses

are what I really want to put on paper.

I have been trying very hard to keep a good attitude.  I suppose it's a carry 

over of the last two years, trying to find some normal, when everything seems quite

the opposite.   I struggled through the knee replacement, because I knew it

was the right thing to do.  I had hoped that there was light at the end of that 

tunnel, but then atrial fib took over my life.

I am trying to let go of some "pie in the sky" idea that everything has to 

be just right for me to be happy.

As you get older, life is going to bring unexpected problems, so if every duck 

has to be in a row, for me to be happy, then I might be very miserable.

So finding happiness, and peace, and contentment, when things aren't so "ducky", well

that's the rub, isn't it????

So if drawing little houses, with imperfect windows, and  complicated grassy areas, makes

me happy, then perhaps that's just what I should do.

After all is said and done, today is the day I have, and I damn well better appreciate it.