I love my writing room. This is where ideas that move around in my head all day settle, ground me. I have a writing playlist, and that sets the tone. Then a bug flies by my head.

A friend of mine recommended this book called 18 minutes by Peter Bregman. It has wonderful things to say – basically sit your ass down for 18 minutes a day if you can and work on something you love. He even breaks up the 18 minutes in different time frames. It has some good points if you need a jolt –

I need to plan out some of my writing projects a bit better. I am a person that can accomplish many objectives in one day, and then have goals far out – but sometimes in that middle-land, it can get a little windy. The footprints that once where may have been dusted over a bit and new paths must be engraved.

Remember Candyland? It is like each person’s path needs candy goal posts along that windy road . . . . with rewards.

Guess what – my coughing has been better this week. I do not know about tonight, tomorrow, and the next – but I seemed to have curved the coughing at night a bit, for the most part so I am pretty happy about that.

Pause.

So I hate to admit, my mother is in the background of my mind sometimes, like a ghost looming. She has influenced me the most in my life.

Although I do not say it often, my mother has some great qualities – like I believe I get some of my strength from her. She has a boisterous laugh; she is comical, animated, and even silly. You just have to catch her at these moments.

The rest of the moments I do not want to be anything like her, and that’s how she has influenced me – not to be like her. She has an untreated mental illness and that is who and what you deal with.

I am pretty sure she loathes me at this moment. My brother told me that that I am out of the will. That’s fine. My brother and I already have an arrangement. And anything that happens with my dad or her, I am not to be told.

You may think – really? Yes, really. My parents did not tell me when my grandfather passed.

I have been listening to Brene’ Brown and she talks a lot about vulnerability, armor, boundaries, onwards.

An image came to my mind – I think the next time I see my mother, the appropriate attire would be a steel armor suit and a helmet, with those tiny slits where a sword care barely slide through. Don’t forget a steel shield.

Perhaps my brother needs a shield as well. My brother told me that if he doesn’t do whatever it is that my mom wants, or doesn’t want, she has said, “I am will haunt you when I die.” She has said this more than once.

Who says that? I am mean – seriously, who says that?

I told my brother he may have to move when she passes because I don’t think ghosts can travel long distances. Anyone know? Anyone?

I read recently that in some Asian cultures, Thai for example, they have these spirit houses. They are smallish spirit houses that hang in homes to ward off ghosts. He will have ten spirit houses hanging in his home.

On a different note – Pause.

Medications. I have many months’ worth of stock. I am consistently rotating my medication stock.

You may ask – how can I have so much stock? Well – with some meds my doctors prescribe a little over than what I actually need because suddenly the insurance needs a prior auth, there are hurricanes, monsoons, Martha forgot her name . . .

I am prescribed 66 enzymes a day – approximately 2,000 a month. I take probably 35-40 a day, although I need to do an updated calculation.

To note, if I am trying to gain weight, the number goes up. Plus, my cell corrector drug has helped me absorb better, so my average has gone down as well. These two factors make it complicated.

I have nine to ten months’ worth of enzymes in my cabinet and they last a year and a half.

The quandary is do I actually change my prescription? I have to do some accurate math before I make a move. I don’t want to waste and I don’t want to regret.

Back in the day – in the 90s, 2000s, even more recent, in clinics, they use to have a cabinet of medications. It was a drug sharing cabinet. It was locked, hidden, and it was not talked about. I was only shown it once in MN – years ago.

Let’s say you had too much of something, and you brought it in to give to someone else. Or you had a drug and it just did not work for you – you brought it in for the docs to give to someone else that may needed it.

How it worked was you briefly mentioned it, the nurse or doctor would nod, not say much. They would motion or make a nod when you took it out of your bag, and before you left the office you left it on the floor or chair behind.

If you needed or were low on something and the insurance was being a bitch – you mention it in the briefest way – like “I only have five days on hand.” Upon leaving, they may just leave a small bag under their chair.

Remember that drug that I got by mistake that I can’t take. I still have it. The pharmacy can’t take it back, which I knew. It is a $4,000 drug. I am determined to find a home for it.

Sharing is caring. Look right, look left.

May you dream with a big heart and a steady glow of stars.