All work makes Marnie a dead girl

So as this push for us suddenly moving then suddenly moving weeks sooner is happening, my body has given out. We had/have been saving my room for last, & it was a disaster. 5 years to go through of substitute items as my real ones were/are packed in a box, now 3 states away. Cards, little post-it's, the 'get well' to the 'I know you're dying inside' to throw away, dust off if keeping. 5 years of 3 beloved pets, 2 buried now in the ever fleeting back yard & 1 curious but sick wonder bunny & the fur & dust that comes with shedding, cat litter, etc. All of the huge undertaking that I had to give up from my mail art/pen pals days, letters never answered in physical form but in my mind & heart-when it became too much to write back I would mentally plan a reply with the art & handmade paper & envelopes I would send. Clothing that got put in another room, for me to go through soon & keep or give away. 95% will be given away, as they don't fit since this body is no longer mine & has very strict rules on what it can or will wear. Mom & dad's things stored in 'my' closet. After trying to help as much as I could while watching my dad fall, cut his face, sweat, vacuum, & sneeze while mom was having heart attacks downstairs worrying. After sleeping & rolling over in a thousand times in this loosely based sleep, I've woken now to a furious back, mad as I just got spinal shots & have basically cancelled them out. I did so little work but I could feel myself pushing too far as dad's face dripped with sweat & hopes & good intentions. My brother & family here on vacation are coming back tonight & I don't know if I'll be able to make the trip downstairs to see them. This was Chai bunny's reaction yesterday, framed in hiding.

 

Sweaty laugh

 I haven't laughed in a week. Not at all. I think we all are aware of my impending moving dr doom & my 2nd tree fall this week, thus my haggard rodeo clown face. I can't really brush my teeth as my mouth is still so swollen, & drinking or eating is a nightmare as opening my mouth cracks open the road rash above my lips. Lovely thought, ain't it? And showering? Well, let's just not even go there...eewww. So I'm on twitter to basically win prizes & follow funny people. I put little-nothing out there of any real significance. At all. I was catching up on reading twitter as my focusing on say, a book, is a useless waste of time. That fall really just hit directly on my brain. I was reading the delightful Rob Delany's tweets & went on his website, expecting it to be a normal 'I'm famous & here is where you can find me' mess. A picture of a small girl running, no, fleeing, up in the air-like serious hang time, in spandex shorts & flip flops & a tank with a look of shear terror on her face as a goose-also in midair with one footed web foot out & forward like a cartoon chased her. His face had an enchanting murderous look & the caption read 'no is not an option for a goose'. I started laughing & a half hour later had sweated completely through my clothes, still couldn't talk from laughing & deep coughing. I finally had to blow my nose & as expected there was just buckets of blood from my smashed nose all over. Mom actually said concerned 'surely one of the 4 CTs from the ER would have shown if something was broken...?' with loving hate I composed the following tweet to @robdelany & a bit later was thrilled to see he had marked it as a favorite. Read & enjoy. ;)

 

 

 Do visit him & the goose now, you hear? Thanks.