Anyway, Saturday I got a call from my Dad telling me my stepmom had had a stroke. I tried to convince him I should meet him at the hospital but he told me to wait until the next day as Saturday would be full of tests. Sunday I made a floral arrangement then G and I headed into the hospital. It's a small hospital and it looks like it's all private rooms (very nice). By the time we got there she had already gotten movement back in the leg that had been affected. Her doctor came while we were there and he was thrilled with her recovery. We stayed and chatted for awhile and then headed for home. Monday I went to my Dad's for a short while then had a bit of anxiety so I retreated to home. When I called the next day I heard that she had come home. Now she'll be on coumadin (boy i remember that :( ) and all in all it seems she's lucky it wasn't worse.
As for me, there's really no excuse. The weather is awful, but then it is everywhere right now - isn't it. I had a listing on ebay taken down for no reason. Why wouldn't I get some kind of notification if something was wrong? So, that sort of stopped me from ebaying. Must start again as I have too much stockpiled that must go. Keeping all this MAC would be rather indulgent of me and I'm really trying to be practical (HA!). Today I found a bag of Lush I had misplaced. So many bath bombs and soaps. I'm lucky they didn't go bad (Lush has no preservatives). They weren't opened and they were stored n a plastic bag so lack of air must've kept them :) A very luxurious bath warmed me up tonight. Actually, our house is so warm and comfy I was able to slip on my new Norma Kamali nightgown without freezing my bits off.
Willow is snuggled next to me on the couch, I think Emma just woke up. She tends to play and get a bit crazy from midnight 'til 2 am. We call it "Crazy Time". G is on the other sofa blogging about video games. I love it when he writes. I wish he would both take it less seriously and more seriously, which I know makes little sense to anyone but me. If he took it less seriously he could just sit down and write without looking things up and pausing in deep thought. He worries that it won't be PERFECT and that can slow him down or even stop him. If he took it more seriously there would be manuscripts ready to send out and focus on the career he really wants. Sigh. Why is it so difficult to do the things we are most suited to do?
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