Coming Up for Air

We’re not even into triple digits yet, but it’s been so hot since the last day I was out and about (the day I completed that 5K at the mall) that I’ve just been staying inside with the A/C blasting all day.

I’m scared to see my next bill, but it’s either run the A/C or die of heat stroke.

At one of our residents/management meetings, the Community Manager indicated one of her goals is to get all the windows and patio doors replaced with double-pane. My background being that of a poor ghetto girl, I had no idea what that was until I googled it and learned it’s window glass that keeps the heat out.

Yes, please and sooner rather than later.

Keeping to myself all these many days, working on the Black Panther needlepoint, listening to myself think, nothing to blog about, just watching the thoughts and feelings flowing through me, I’ve been getting the feeling something wrong is going on, but I can’t put my finger on who it involves and what it is.

Hopefully it’s not family, but I’m not going to make contact to find out if it is.

I really would rather not know because there’s nothing I can do about anything, because life is about choices and though I can see farther and deeper than those in my family, no one in the family recognizes this gift and appreciates or listens to what I have to say. So, my only recourse is to stand back and let them experience the results of the choices they make and hope for the best.

An old boyfriend crossed my mind – not the Arab attorney, but a 32-year-old long-haired drummer I dated when I was 50.

I googled his name and he came up on an obituary.

That was a surprise.

More surprisingly still was how recent it was. He passed on 3/17/18 of a cerebral hemorrhage and was buried on April 6.

Had he crossed my mind sooner and I’d learned of his passing, I probably would have attended the funeral.

He wasn’t a bad guy, just young, immature and eventually began trying my patience, which eventually got him shown the door.

His obit was white-washed with half-truths and glaring omissions.

Divorced from a Black woman, no children, he was drawn to me because I reminded him of her, which didn’t bother me in the least bit because I wasn’t serious about him. I was in it for the fun. He on the other hand eventually began sweating me for marriage. I declined, and probably for the same reason she divorced him -- because though fun to hang with, took me interesting places where I met interesting people, he was basically a loser, going nowhere in life, accomplished nothing other than hang out, travel and play with a few bands. His wealthy parents basically supported him his whole entire life and, in fact, he was living with his mom when he passed away.

I’m torn between feeling sorry he’s gone from this life, but thinking he now gets the chance to begin again and do better.

At any rate, the feeling something is wrong is still lingering, so what I’m sensing is not about him.

Tomorrow is Pizza Tuesday. Might be a good idea to check in and see what’s happening with the seniors.