A month ago, a dear friend asked whether I’d be interested in helping her out. Her sister, working at a summer camp in Massachusetts, had found a lost parakeet down by the pool. She’d tried locating its owner for weeks, to no avail, and was trying to re-home it. My friend was visiting her at the camp for a few days and had immediately thought of me. She sent a picture of the parakeet and – NO PRESSURE!!! – but I’d get first dibs if I *was* interested.
GOTCHA.
Hey blog friend! It’s me, Dishy. If you’ve been worrying about me since my last painful post, wondering whether I have recovered from the loss of my former parrot, Kiwi, the ingrate, let me just say: I am okay. I’ve been coping well since Kiwi abandoned me without a word, and I am not harping on it, at all. In fact I hardly think about her, like ever, whether she’s met someone new, who looks like me, but will never be me. I mean, AS IF. After giving her the best 10 years of my life, acting like her damn slave, and…
Feeling Lost.
What do you do when there’s nothing left to do? When you’ve exhausted all options, done all that’s possible, and yet desperately ache to do something?
I wish I knew.