Yesterday, I matched—even with my Zoom background. You know I did not plan to do it. I didn’t know it had happened until I saw myself on the screen. Those orchids behind me are birthday gifts I gave Suzanne, and that’s where she put them. I wasn’t even thinking about them when I set up for my Zoom appointment. Matchy, matchy, matchy with my Bow Tie o’ the Day. I survived the matchiness, with no apparent negative side effects.
My appointment was with my crazy-head doctor. It was a regular check-in and check-on for my bipolarity. Fortunately, my brain is chugging along nicely right now. No bigly swings of the pendulum that is my head. I’m as ready as I can be for whatever’s around the corner, though. There is no cure. There’s always something lurking, and all I can do is not be overly surprised when it decides to jump out at me. In other words, it’s always with me. I think my bipolarity is my mental shadow. It ain’t goin’ nowhere.
Not long after my Zoom appointment, Suzanne packed up her car with treats and wine and what was left of her birthday cake, and she drove to the mountains to meet up with her Champagne Garden Club ladies for their annual long weekend getaway. I’ve been to the cabin with them a few times. The weekend there is like Las Vegas, but without phone service. What goes on there, stays there. What I can disclose to y’all is that the Champagne Garden Club gals never garden there at all. And I swear, late last night when I was alone and drifting off to sleep, I was sure I could hear them faintly exploding in fireworks of laughter, a few mountains north, over and over again. Yes, their voices carry. Or maybe—and much more likely—it was just my own tinnitus I was hearing.