That's me, a printer.
Well, sort of, in a way - I do spend a lot of time putting words on paper. Hmm.
I had to delete the entry about the cat in Bellingham because seeing it every time I looked at my page was bothering me too much.
I talked to my mom last night, and had the brainstorm of actually considering asking her whether she felt like she would prefer to have someone there living with her. (I'm not just cute, I'm polite too!) Her health is not bad, but it isn't good either, and she's recently had some episodes of tachycardia that made the doctor change her blood pressure medication some. I worry a bit - and I had been wondering if it wouldn't be a good thing for me to take this opportunity to move in with her, to help around the house and to keep an eye on things.
It sounds, though, like she's doing ok, and she'd rather have me not make the commute. For which I am grateful - it is plenty do-able, but it would be pretty miserable. I know lots of people who don't mind commuting, or at least who can put up with the inconvenience, but it really takes a lot out of me, I find. Mom has lots of church friends who look in on her and after her, and she confessed that she was universally taken to task for driving herself to the emergency room the other evening, so it is not like she is neglected. And she's far from being an invalid in any case. Not to mention that since I don't drive, I might not be as much use in a pinch as I would like to think...
In any case, she fairly firmly told me to forget about it - not that I couldn't move in with her if I really wanted to or needed to do so, but that since she didn't need me to, I'd be better off living over here in Seattle. So hopefully, absolved of that guilt, I can get off my ass and find a new place to live. This apartment hunt has not been very fun - and I usually like looking at the very least.
The other 'determined' part is I want to plan to go over and visit mom more regularly. It works well to go over Friday evenings and come back Saturday mornings, since she goes over to the Bellevue temple early on Saturdays and can drop me at the ferry terminal on the way out of town.
I'm certain it's for the best - we really do get along better in separate households, my family and I - but now I have to go back to talking to strangers and hoping my financial circumstances fit their arcane and convoluted standards. Bah.
"Celebrate the traditional way - with a massacre!"
So I ride by a flower shop on the bus every morning and evening, en commute. I look at their sign as it changes through the year. Some seasons are kind of a stretch for them, it seems (New Year's flowers? ok...) but February is pretty much a no-brainer. Of course, the slogan on their sign doesn't end the way mine does - but I can't help thinking it every day, either.
Yup, I'm a sick puppy. A big bucketful of love to all my people, hither and yon.