I apologize for choosing this prompt for Mama Kat’s Writers’ Workshop this week, but it was such a perfect title for a vent-and-whine post I couldn’t resist. So you really don’t have to read this. It’s just me venting for the sake of venting.
Going to the beach. Just a long weekend with Michael, John, and me would be awesome, and much more of a vacation than we’ve had in the past eight years. Eight years without a vacation. Total first-world problem, I know. But in my version of a perfect world I’d own a three-bedroom beach house on the Gulf that was constantly filled with family and friends. We’d spend as much time there as possible, and have friends and family come vacation with us, but even when we weren’t there I’d want to make the house available to anyone and everyone who would enjoy it. Pets included, of course!
I’d like to go to the pool where we used to be members and do water aerobics every weekday morning. Water aerobics are really the only form of exercise I’ve been able to do without crippling pain for the last several years, but the pool membership was the first luxery item that was cut from our budget when I realized I wouldn’t be returning to work as planned after my fourth surgery.
I’d like to walk my dogs, or even run with my dogs. But I have big dogs, no grip strength, and can’t even walk to the end of the block and back without needing an ice pack and pain pill afterwards. Thankfully, we have a big yeard, so the dogs don’t lack for exercise.
Speaking of the yard, I’d love to get out there with a chainsaw, some weed killer, landscape fabric, and mulch. Then I’d bring in some colorful perennials to replace the ones weeds have choked to death. I used to love gardening, but now crouching down to pull a few weeds means a fifty/fifty shot at getting back up on my own. Not worth it.
I’d like to wear cute summer clothes. Sundresses and sandals, shorts with bright tops and canvas Tretorns. But with the weight I’ve gained I’m wearing the same yoga pants, long skirts, and dark colors I wore all winter. I have sandals in the closet somewhere, but I can’t lift the boxes to get to them.
I’d love to visit my son and daughter-in-law in Texas. But I can’t ride in a car comfortably for long enough to get me out of the state, and the last time I tried to fly it was all I could do not to sob hysterically the entire flight. The altitude made my neck feel like someone was driving railroad spikes into my spine.
I’d like to do the normal, fun things people do in Louisville. There’s a walking bridge over the Ohio River that I’ve never been on. I don’t think I could make the walk to the bridge, let alone across it and back. The Kentucky Shakespeare Festival performed both The Tempest and Macbeth this year, but the storms moving through with their barometric shifts left me in bed with an ice pack more evenings than not. No walks in the parks, no sitting through the latest summer movie, no late dinners out or country music concerts at the State Fair. We scrape together change to make sure Michael can put enough gas in the car to work every day, and if I never see another hot dog or packet of Ramen noodles again that will be fine with me.
If you’ve read through this whole thing thank you for letting me rant. I assure you I’m not really this negative. I’m blessed with family and friends who love me and help us out in so many ways, and my life could be a lot worse.