Numero Uno

Stress.

Stress is THE ultimate in anyone's life, and the number one contributor to stroke, disease, and damn well anything. Just when we think we cannot handle any more stress- more is dumped on us from above.. like little minions of the Irony gods who think its all funny. I can see them with their little green glove clad hands carrying black cauldrons of stress over the miniature rain cloud that sits atop my head- not to close so people point and stare at me as I slowly walk through the mall.. giggling as I try on those pants i like and finding out i need another size, nope.. one more size up please. I give up and their giggling laughter turns into boisterous laughter. grrrr i can here you up there!

This is my THIRD attempt at writing a blog. I start one- the forget the password, or sign in.. or whatever. then i forget it exists. And continue on my way thinking.. " damn should start a blog" or Lindzi why haven't you started a blog yet people ask me- and think.. I SHOULD!!! BRILLANT IDEA then remember my attempts and forget about blogging. Cue snickering cloud-elves.

I have mucho stress right now, everyone does. But perhaps this may deal with my brain in sorting out issues and whatnot. Within this past 12 days i have had a HUGE blowout with my boyfriend combined with watching a dog who hates men. Add on emergency trips to the hospital where my grandmother who is visiting from NFLD has a knee replacement and eye surgery gets incredibly sick and remains in ICU at this very time surrounded by her family with a promise of the doctor she wont leave, and its a matter of time before she goes to hang out with my grandfather, and her parents. Thats right... my 90 strong as a bull grandmother is going to die any day. Next up- i have been WSIB for a smash to my wrist that occurred at work to find out yesterday they stopped paying me because of whatever reason ( i vote dumb ass receptionist) so now i have to deal with that while have no dollars to my name.

STRESS

I have come to terms with my unfortunate family situation and sigh loudly when I think of my nan locked up to machines lying down in a Grimsby hospital and wondering if she knows whats happening, and if she hears any prayers that we have all been whispering. My Nan is like.. a powerhouse. she had ten children- and watched a hundred grand-kids pass through her little nfld door. How she chopped wood until she couldn't anymore.. the ripe old age of 80.. and how vibrant she is. While watching over her and holding her hand i note she hates being in Ontario a flood of memories wash over my brain like a broken hoover damn making me tear up at any sign of anything.

God makes me cry. I don't know why, always has.. i think its the unknown.. there is a certain finality that comes with God. or seeing god or whatevering God.. I have always leaned on the more eastern notions of like- reincarnation, kharma etc. The natural cycle of life. Not saying that God doesnt have a life cycle or know this kinda thing.. Perhaps as you get older you look for something more stable. Something current and in your face. To not chase gods, spirits, demi-gods, fairys etc. I visited a monestary in Serbia last year, where the remains of a saint , St. Petka (Petra) lie and it really... knocked the wind out of me. A pious women who protects her women who is strong like her.. i found that soothing and comforting. And real. I have started praying for my grandmother- To pray for health, for strength, or at least.. a comfortable and swift passage to her afterlife whatever it may be. My family is very science and fact based, never a religious family. My mother comes from a catholic upbringing and my father Protestant. I think due to the saturation of their lives and the forcing of godly-ness that they had to endure made them lax on their kids.

I still dont know who/what/where i am praying to.. or who is listening. Or who even cares... maybe its prayer that makes us feel good? I tell you, when you sit by someone who is slowly dying holding their hand.. you question things.

Not ending this massive blog on a negative- i just called wsib and have to sift and sort through mountians of paperwork and doctors appointments for me to get paid. grrrr...

okay maybe i did end it on a negative. well- what the hell!! im furious navy!