I've finally completed a chapter for my book, CareGiver: Love, Laughter & Poop.
I started the book earlier this year with a prologue and an explanation of how I ended up working in a nursing home instead of spending my days as a reporter in a newsroom. I deleted those posts from my blog, and eventually I'll probably delete the poopy night chapter, along with all the writing for the book that follows. After all, why should you be able to click on my blog and read my book in its entirety whenever you want? You're going to have to buy this sucker to get the whole story.
Besides, the writing for the book that I post on my blog is my rough draft. And I won't post everything that's going in the book. But writing for my blog helps me keep the words for the book flowing.
I guess I need an assignment to be able to write, and I think of the blog as my assigned writing. Sitting in my recliner with my feet up, tapping away on my laptop, is a lot more fun than writing an assigned story in a loud, dirty newsroom.
When the book is finished, I think I shall have to dedicate it to Panera and eczema. The two are keeping me awake at night, the time I feel most comfortable writing.
If you don't have Panera where you live, then I'm sorry for you. It's a soup, salad, sandwich, bakery, coffee house. I've never been a coffee drinker. Love the way it smells, but I've always found the taste bitter.
But recently, the nice server at Panera told me that thanks to my Panera rewards card, I could have a free frozen coffee. Thanks, I told her, but I don't like coffee.
Oh, but we have frozen coffees that don't even taste like coffee, she said. You should try the frozen peppermint mocha coffee.
I took her advice and that night I emailed a friend and said I finally understand why coffee drinkers can accomplish so much. The coffee and its symbiotic friend, caffeine, have me feeling as if I can move mountains. I might even spin around so fast that I fly away into the sky, where I shall look down upon all the non-coffee drinkers and laugh maniacally.
A less pleasant feeling comes from my eczema, a skin disease that leaves nasty, itchy little bumps on various parts of my body. The itch often precedes the appearance of the rash, and don't even bother to tell me not to scratch. It ain't gonna happen. Eczema and I were born to be together cuz I've always had it.
At the moment, the eczema is particularly bad under my left arm and on the middle of my back, where my bra strap rubs against it and irritates the skin even more.
I've been taking my antihistamine that usually relieves my itching, but the current cases of eczema are so bad that the antihistamine is of little help.
So I borrowed the topical spray I got from the vet last summer when Harper had severe skin allergies. It helped a little, but the eczema remains, keeping me awake and writing.
So that's why I'll dedicate my book to Panera and eczema, and maybe a couple of young adults who claim to be my children. But I don't know how that can be. They were shorter than me just the other day, and they giggled when we played games.
Now they're taller than I am, and I request their help.
Be good to your children. One of these days you'll need them to get the Christmas decorations out of the attic and move the furniture and tend to you when you're sick.
I tried asking the doggies to do all that stuff for me. They said, no, they're not here to work for me.
I forgave them as soon as the weather turned chilly and they cuddled me in bed.
Infinities of love,