(Feb. 14/19) “Forgot To Add A Title…and that it’s Valentine’s Day…Read On, All Will Be Re-Healed” :)

Context: Hi, Terrifics.  Respectful of my profession, I thought carefully about pointedly sharing the challenges I’ve been managing of late.  And, having mulled it over, I’ve decided that the greater good lies in refusing to shy away from the reality that–regardless of what most of us for for a living–caring takes a mental toll.

Therefore, much like we’d understand a 5-star-chef being overweight (given the opportunity to eat all manner of delicious things at his/her fingertips), it makes sense that nearly five years of providing full-time/intensive mental health supports has been really rewarding…and really hard on my head and heart at times.

So, although I’m doing better this winter than each that came before, I know full-well that cold, grey months often compound the challenges of the human condition (*simplified/paraphrased Wikipedia definition* “…an existentialist attempt to reconcile confusion and disorientation  in light of our conception of our personal/individual human failings, and man’s inhumanity to man…”)

And, while, by virtue of my education, I hold the title of social worker…I believe that those in the service industry and helping professions who give from the heart also provide social (work) services…be it the compassionate taxi driver who transports an anxious fare to a doctor’s appointment…the teacher who balances teaching with an  understanding of the home-struggles a student brings to class…the nurse who mops a patient’s brow…the drive-through employees who greet and serve patrons desperate for caffeine-fueled motivation…or…

Well, I could go on and on…for, designed to be a compassionate species, humans give to others as best we can.

And, I say this with modesty, I have a profound capacity for empathy and giving…

So, coupled with (decreasing) challenges related to setting (“No”) boundaries, my default setting is my blessing and my caution-wary tale.

And, here’s something I’ve touched on (and may expound upon in future writings):

More and more, God/the universe has given me signs/encouragement that I’m on the right path–that I’m meant to follow my instincts even when insecurities tempt me to take the path of least resistance (the nutritional-equivalent of fast-food consumption)…

Wait, it’s not that more signs are coming my way…rather, by virtue of spiritual pursuits, I’m more attuned to ongoing-messages meant to steer me back to my “original” self…

Case in Point:

As I wrote this intro (after piecing this post together on a few separate occasions), it struck me that, much like the Harry Potter series, what started out as “light” and whimsical offerings have become “heavier” as the years progressed (this being my third year of blogging).

Not that I’m comparing my writings to JK Rowling’s–but, I had “Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows” playing in the background as I wrote today.

(Sometimes I need peripheral distractions that–due to familiarity–serve as “white noise” that block unhelpful thoughts that crop up when too much quiet interferes with writing.)

And, no sooner had I prepared to wrap up Context when my attention was drawn to the TV…

I looked up just in time to see Dobby cradled in a desperate Harry’s arms…and (*I can barely stand to write this for the pain that is squeezing my heart*), Dobby said, “Dobby is happy to be with his friend, Harry Potter”…and then…then…he died.

It just occurred s to me that, having read the books and (repeatedly) watched the movies, I find this the saddest scene/death of all…

So, it makes sense that my buffering thought was, “Good thing I didn’t see this until I was nearly finished writing–otherwise, I would’ve put this aside and taken time to bawl/draw parallels between Doby’s enlightenment/triumph of the human spirit and the aforementioned “human condition”.

Instead, I was able to put this offering into the world…

So, for what it’s worth, Dazzlers, if you’ve stuck it out with me this long, here’s the sugar-coded offering I started out to share…

(*Also, 5 days into my staycation, I’m feeling so much better/confident that the remaining days home will serve to restore what was in need of replenishment 🙂 *)

As I (moaner) cycle between making the most of my (writing) time,

and waiting for inspiration to “strike (while the tryin’s not”),

internal pressure is twice as “Hi!!!”per as (two) Wheeler’s greetings when I get

home from work.

Be chill, my fleeting start”, I think with a gentle smile—

“Depending on how you look at it, there’s no (ch)harm in pushing yourself to do

your best,

so give your self (talk) a break”.

And, speaking of breaks, Wonderfuls,

Did I tell you that I’m two days into a 10-day-staycation?

Wait…of course I didn’t…

But, come to (“I can’t) think” of it,

I can’t blame myself for wondering, if memory serves

For, mentally-overloaded, you wouldn’t believe how absent-muddled, 3fuddled, and in need of puppy-cuddled I’ve been of late (early and punctual)!!!

This week, when advised that in April I’d applied for a week’s vacation starting February 11th

it took two days before I found time to calculate that 10 days of glory was two days away.

This degree of mental distraction tops forgetting it’s pay-day…Friday…and/or a long weekend any day!

And, giddy with days of leisure looming before me, I delight in these multiple/same-day remembrances…even as a small part(y-pooper) warns that positive reframes such as these cheat reality…they are simply trysted celebrations…

To which a defensive part of me retorts,

“Well, it’s no (Stevia) wonder we’re Park Time Lovers”, snatching at brief moments away from married- to-the-mob (mentality)…I mean daily grind (my teeth)!

And before you self-righteously ask–‘What do you mean we?’– you’re just as guilty of hunching in  our car and scarfing fast food down like it’s a winter accessory (before and after) the fat!”

“Butt”, says the bigger part of me, “as much as I feel your pain, we’ve made a pact not to turn against each other when trig-hurt—

we agreed to rise to a higher level and not com-plane, lest we lug age-old carry-on (and on)”.

“Yeh, well…


Okay, I gotta give you that one, Trules! 😊

That higher-(air)plane/baggage bit was too clever for me to resist turning pain into pun-fun 😊…

Let me repay your forgiveness in kind by robbin’ negativity of its (do your) worst…

How’s about I share this truth with our little band of merry readers.” 🙂

Early Morning Wake-up Call(ing)

4:48 a.m. in the wee hours of Saturday morning.


my mischievous moppet of a tousle-haired Muppet—

has me over a barrel (of monkeys);


if you lie down with dogs,

you wake up with pee-s.

So, I must (p)urge him to “Wake me up before you GO-go…I don’t want to miss it when you hit that high (and dry)….”.

And, just like clockwork-(me-over), he does!

Yep, between 4:45 and 5:10 A.M—

rain or shine, weekends, holidays—

my delightful “Dream Wheeler” is the embodiment of determination.


having no way around—“No-more-lying-down”—

I’m roused by my adorable bundle of joy(ful high-maintenance) who requires a second home…

Okay, that’s a gross exaggeration.

It’s not, literally, a second home—rather, an affordable little P&P…

In other words,

because winter’s cold precludes outside training,

he relieves himself (and me!) on disposable house-training puppy pads…a Pee & Poop(-Oopy-Doop)

(*Wheeler is soooooo adorable that most everything he does is (Betty Boop) cutesy…and, if not cute, surprisingly tolerable 😊*)



Wheeler takes everything in(bounding) stride,


no matter how tired and cranky…

emotional and hormonal…

impatient or lousy I feel—

Wheeler doesn’t let my




slow him down!

He happily greets the day (and nature’s call), as he (without) paws at my face…

and tugs at my heart. 😊


by no means a mind-reader—

in this moment of, “(no) ‘Wonder what he’s thinking”,

I’m so inspired by Wheeler-Wheeler-Heart-Stealer’s virtuous love of life that it’s trig-heard a memor-ex of an old-school song I fell in love with decades ago…

Which led me to think about how far I’ve come….

And having thought about it for a second (hundredth time), Reflectors…

resilient as I am,

I’m inspired to end with a lyrical wordplay/song that wraps up my note-to-self…and to any who can relate.

(*The original lyric–found in 10cc’s (1977) hit–“The Things We Do For Love”) is–

“Like walking in the rain and the snow when there’s no where to go, and you’re feeling like a part of you is dying, and you’re looking for the answer in her eyes; you think she’s gonna break up, and she says she wants to make up…” *)

Like walking in the pain and the grow when there’s nothing to show, and you’re feeling like a part of you is lyin’, and you’re looking for the answers in your why-s…”

That’s how I feel when I am stumbling in the dark–having been emotionally depleted…

But, I always rally…driven by my motivation to love and take care of myself so that I can be my best me while giving from a (mostly) full cup…

after all, Delightfuls, Love Conquers All 🙂

Until next time.

God bless you and your loves. 🙂



P.S.  As for the title–true story (after I pressed publish, I looked and realized the over-sight/date); and, I think the only wordplay in need of explanation is my reference to Stevie Wonder’s (1985) hit, “Part Time Lover”…it speaks to me desperately grabbing fast food in the run of a hectic work-day, and gulping it down in my car…but, was also inspired by my uplifting practice of sitting in my car and listening to the remainder of a loved song after pulling into the parking lot at work, or my driveway…moments of ongoing self care have more power than we sometimes recognize…keep on keeping on, Wonderfuls…we’ve got this!!! 🙂


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