Getting Back In The Saddle Is Hard
I've already set up a messageboard for OnTracyLane and I am setting up a new online shop for Darryn next, to sell promotional products such as T-shirts, buttons, posters and even a Darryn Yates 12 month Calendar!
"Yay!" says he. "Thanks!" I am happy to help. He is absolutely swamped with work. And okay, so I have a little crush on him. Big stinkin' sexy hunka man deal. We plan to get together when he's in town, touring.
I owe Bylli Crayone an overdue press release I need to finish on Lynett. He's probably got a photo of me hung up somewhere chock full of darts at this point. I feel so badly. I've really been dropping the ball, pretty useless these past couple of weeks and am only now getting back into the groove of things. I was already down with the flu. And then came the string of bad news.
One Friday my aunt died, then over the weekend Johnny's Dad did. Monday I recieved a call from Germany from Michael's mother to inform me that her husband, Michael's stepfather for most of his life, had suddenly passed away from a heart attack. I had the unhappy task of calling him. (His mother had tried for hours in vain. I finally reached him at work.)
"WHAT?!" he shrieked, in shock of the tragedy.
"You need to call your mother right away." I told him, gently. "Call me back if you need to talk. I'm here for you." He did call me back this once, understandably upset. I don't know how his mother and younger siblings will all manage. His father was the breadwinner, the head, the stronghold. I feel for their grief. Thursday was the first anniversary of "Pedro"'s death- a somber day with a few tears shed. And then my sister Mary called Sunday to tell me that her daughter, my 24 year old niece has had a heart attack.
So I've been a mental and emotional mess, unable to concentrate worth a rats ass. It's time to get back in the saddle. It's time to put my house and heart in order. It's time to live, for any day breath could be taken from me.
Giddy-up.
"Yay!" says he. "Thanks!" I am happy to help. He is absolutely swamped with work. And okay, so I have a little crush on him. Big stinkin' sexy hunka man deal. We plan to get together when he's in town, touring.
I owe Bylli Crayone an overdue press release I need to finish on Lynett. He's probably got a photo of me hung up somewhere chock full of darts at this point. I feel so badly. I've really been dropping the ball, pretty useless these past couple of weeks and am only now getting back into the groove of things. I was already down with the flu. And then came the string of bad news.
One Friday my aunt died, then over the weekend Johnny's Dad did. Monday I recieved a call from Germany from Michael's mother to inform me that her husband, Michael's stepfather for most of his life, had suddenly passed away from a heart attack. I had the unhappy task of calling him. (His mother had tried for hours in vain. I finally reached him at work.)
"WHAT?!" he shrieked, in shock of the tragedy.
"You need to call your mother right away." I told him, gently. "Call me back if you need to talk. I'm here for you." He did call me back this once, understandably upset. I don't know how his mother and younger siblings will all manage. His father was the breadwinner, the head, the stronghold. I feel for their grief. Thursday was the first anniversary of "Pedro"'s death- a somber day with a few tears shed. And then my sister Mary called Sunday to tell me that her daughter, my 24 year old niece has had a heart attack.
So I've been a mental and emotional mess, unable to concentrate worth a rats ass. It's time to get back in the saddle. It's time to put my house and heart in order. It's time to live, for any day breath could be taken from me.
Giddy-up.
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