Happy Sunday. Sorry I’m late.

I’m still trying to process my grief over Nancy’s death the other day, without really having much quiet time to do it in. So it is really kinda weighing on me around here this morning.

My cats don’t seem all that interested in hearing about it. And I can’t discuss a client’s death with my other clients.

I do get free, 24-hr phone counseling through the Agency, but you know, where would I start?

ME: “Everyone I interact with everyday is really, really old, cognitively impaired and getting ready to die or has just died, and I feel like, I don’t know, like something’s missing in my life… I got a new flat screen TV in my family room and it helped, but still…”

THE COUNSELOR: “Have you considered getting a pet — a cat, maybe — to interact with?”

Okay. Perhaps I underestimate the counselor, but you know. Where would I start? Honestly. It seems easier to not dwell on everything that’s weird in my life and just keep goig. Or “going,” as the case may be. (Although I have never actually “goig’d” so maybe it would help. I will look into it…)

I did get a chance to have a chat with Valerie in Brooklyn late yesterday afternoon and that helped a lot. But I really just wanted to call in sick today (I have the retired Minister and his lovely wife and cat later today), but there’s something I do with them every other Sunday (which is today) that no other caregiver is trained in yet, so it just seems like it’s better for me to just go to town for my shift. I have tomorrow off.

All I have to do between now and leaving for town in 4 and a 1/2 hours, is do yoga and take a shower. I like to think I can manage that. I guess we shall see.

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But it was great chatting with Val yesterday. And she actually asked to read the manuscript for The Curse of Our Profound Disorder.

After I picked myself up off the floor and got back in my chair, I said:

ME: “You haven’t read one of my books in, like, 25 years — give or take 20 years.”

SHE: “Yeah, it might have been a decade or two ago.”

She has trouble focusing. But now she wants to work on focusing so, hey. I sent her the file!! I would just love it if she would actually read it and tell me her opinion of it. We’ll see.

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Okay, here’s this.

From Phyllis Stein’s Instagram page!

Keith in Los Angeles, in 1972. Photo by Ken Regan:

And last night, in my new & improved family room — I started watching that documentary TV series on the Rolling Stones from a couple of years ago, “My Life As A Rolling Stone“.

Episode 1 interviewed Mick Jagger. It was interesting, but I felt like it glossed over a whole lot of stuff from the last 60 years. Still, I watched it and will continue. Although it only covers Mick, Keith, Ronnie, and the late Charlie Watts.

Plus, from the brief synopsis about the series:

“…how [they] grew from young blues-loving hopefuls to a globally recognized cultural brand.”

It actually says that. A globally recognized brand.

That’s sure what The Rolling Stones mean to me. For chrissakes.

ME (aged 12, alone in my room, listening to “Exile on Main St” for the first time): “Wow! If these guys stick with it, they could become a globally recognized brand!!!”

But anyway.

I’m trying to force myself to sit in the family room at night and watch TV. And stop being closed up in my room so fucking much. (Along the lines of how Val is trying to force herself to “focus” again.) So I will stick with it. I am of course eager to see Episode 2, which interviews Keith.

We’ll see if I have it in me to watch it tonight, after my shift. Or if I will be too entranced with the idea of closing myself up in my room, lighting some votives, getting in bed and wondering what the fuck has happened to my life…

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Okay, well, I think I’m gonna stop there for today and try to get my thoughts together here before heading off for the shift later. Hopefully, I’ll be in a better emotional place tomorrow.

Enjoy your Sunday, wherever you are in the world.

Thanks for visiting.

I love you guys, See ya!

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Sunday morning-listening music!

From when I went back to bed, with my cup of coffee. Meditated. Then watched it rain outside the window. It helped.

Enjoy, gang.