Buckle up, tempus fugit

I've heard that for most of my life: tempus fugit (time flies). I always thought that I would have more time, and that my life would turn out just the way I wanted, within the time frame I wanted. Not so.

I had my little pity party when I got back from New York...really, that was more than enough. It was so underwhelming that I had to take a long walk on Wednesday and kick a few brick walls, and then I felt better (except for a sore foot).

Tempus really does fugit. I had a few sleepless nights, and realized in the middle of the night (last night; some people can be really slow learners sometimes) that I've lived more than half my life in this country, and that it looks like I will remain here for the duration. Thanks to the cripplers (Hilary Longhurst, Sofia Grigoriadou, Phil Bright-or, rather, not-so-bright- and the spouse beating pedophile Matt "Bucky" Buckland, I would have a really tough time finding work back home. I find it difficult to find work here, never mind going home and starting all over again. Gentamicin, breast cancer, numerous surgeries-it's been a really rough ride.

I calculated-in the middle of the night, of course, when I do my best thinking and agonizing about life-that it has been a horrendous seven and a half years. Horrendous. But I managed to get through it, and although I'm missing a few body parts, I still have all my vital parts. What a bonus.

I also calculated the amount of time-in years-that I have spent procrastinating, rather than living. I didn't learn this lesson fully when I discovered I had breast cancer four and a half years ago; some people take a long time to learn something really important like that, and I'm obviously one of them.

So, lesson well and truly learned. There is nobody around to give me a kick up the backside (figuratively speaking, of course!), so I have to give myself a kick. I've told myself to buckle up, step up and start living the way I want, do what I can do and accept that there are some things I will probably never be able to do again. Well, boohoo. I'm not the only person in the world who has been damaged by other people's incompetence-not the first, and, sadly, not the last.

Seven and a half years-that is a long time to hang onto resentment. Five minutes is a long time to hang onto resentment. It's very difficult to live in the moment, unless you're the Dalai Lama, or someone who lives on a mountain top and has nothing to do with people. But I am working on it.

In the meantime, there is a big world out there, I've missed it over the past decade or so, and once time passes it is gone and can never be recaptured.

Huh. I'll let you know how I'm doing. Them's fighting words: get back in the saddle and start living, and who gives a damn what other people think? That's a lesson I finally learned: if they don't pay my bills, their opinion doesn't count.

I'm off to walk in the pouring rain-something I haven't been able to do since gentamicin, something that I find so difficult that I avoid it at all costs. Meh. It's only rain. And Starbucks is calling...

Oh, yes, and I forgot to blog on yet another holiday, so Happy Halloween. Late. And Happy Thanksgiving. Very early, just in case. (Nah, that is one I will remember. In time, too.)