Well That Was Crazy!

 

"Put wellness at the top of your list now. Don't wait until something goes wrong." (Terri Trespicio)

Hello, my lovely friends!

    I’m sending a massive virtual hug your way today because, honestly, I think I need one just as much as you do. It has been one of those weeks where the universe decides to throw a curveball just to see if your reflexes are still sharp. I was so incredibly excited to log on here and share all the magic from our Sunday play date at Water for Elephants, but life had a slightly less glamorous script in mind for me. Instead of soaring acrobatics and Broadway lights, my Sunday morning kicked off with a personal drama that felt a little too real for comfort.

I woke up feeling like my chest was in a literal vice, and every breath I took felt like I was trying to inhale a bag of marbles. Now, we’ve all lived enough life to know that when the chest starts acting up, the "ignore it and it’ll go away" strategy isn’t exactly the wisest move. For a terrifying minute, I was convinced this was the big one. We went back and forth on the ER debate, that classic dance of "I don't want to be dramatic" versus "I don't want to be a statistic", and in the heat of the moment, we decided to stay home and officially donated our tickets to someone who could actually, you know, breathe.

Then, about thirty minutes into my existential crisis, the most sophisticated medical miracle occurred: I let out a burp that probably registered on the local Richter scale. Just like that, the "heart attack" vanished, the pressure lifted, and I realized I wasn’t dying; I was just quite literally full of hot air. I suppose it’s a poetic reminder that even when I think I’m being deep and serious, I’m usually just gassy. We had already given the tickets away by then, so I spent the afternoon on the sofa in the quiet comfort of my own home, feeling a mix of profound relief and total sheepishness. I missed the show, but I’m still here to tell the tale, and honestly, having you all to laugh about it with is the best consolation prize I could ask for.

 

     After a bit of a rocky start to the week, I decided to actually listen to my body for once and press pause. That nagging soreness in my chest finally decided to exit stage left by Sunday evening, but Mom, ever the voice of reason, insisted that Monday be dedicated to the fine art of doing absolutely nothing. She pointed out that I’ve been playing "Chief Everything Officer" around the house lately, and honestly, the stress was starting to show in ways that aren't nearly as graceful as a gold-medal floor routine.

 

Instead of fighting the inevitable, we leaned into the stillness and spent our final night together soaking up the closing ceremonies of the Olympics. It turns out that leaning back into the sofa is a much better look for me than carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders. I spent the following day in a blissful, unapologetic lounge. It’s a gentle reminder to myself, and perhaps to you too, that the chores will still be there tomorrow, but your sanity is far more precious.

  

    We decided to venture out for a few errands with the little man in tow on Tuesday, who fortunately finds the backseat of a car to be the height of luxury. The primary mission was a restock of those "magic" gummies for my mom. They truly do wonders for her aches, though she’d be the first to tell you that the price tag provides a different kind of pain altogether. It’s a bit of a steep investment for a little relief, but seeing her comfortable is worth every penny, even if it makes the wallet feel significantly lighter.

 

Of course, the universe had other plans for our quick ten-minute jaunt. What should have been a breeze turned into a thirty-minute crawl through the aftermath of two separate accidents. It’s the classic story of a town that outgrew its own boots; they definitely didn't plan for this much life when they laid down these narrow lanes. My mom tried to be clever by taking a "shortcut" to bypass the mess, but as fate would have it, we ended up merged right back into the same sea of brake lights. We couldn't do much else but laugh at the absurdity of it all, joking that maybe the cosmos was trying to tell us we should have just stayed tucked away at home.

 

    While most of you are currently living in a literal snow globe, seriously, drop the link for your ski resort passes, nature has decided to skip the winter wonderland theme over here in favor of sheer chaos. We’ve spent the last forty-eight hours in a relentless wind storm that has turned my backyard into a communal lost-and-found for the neighborhood’s trash. If you’re looking for a rogue recycling bin or a stray patio cushion, there’s a solid chance it’s currently performing a clumsy solo dance across my patio. It’s less of a scenic vista and more of an obstacle course at this point.

 

The novelty of this "endless summer" vibe is wearing thin, too. Having seventy-degree weather all through the months we should be shivering sounds like a dream until the reality of the fire hazards sets in. We’ve already watched three separate blazes break out in nearby cities, which is a stressful price to pay for being able to skip the heavy coats. The mountains are teasing us with a light dusting of white, but down here on the ground, we haven't seen so much as a drop of rain to settle the dust. I’m sending all my love to those of you currently shoveling your way out of your front doors, but please, feel free to blow a few of those storm clouds in my direction.

 

So, how's your week been? 

 

 So glad you could make it. Whether you’re starting your day or winding it down, I hope it’s a great one. Until we cross paths again—take care!