It's been pity party day here. I woke up feeling terrible, severe fibro pain. I did get to church, which was wonderful, but it didn't make me hurt any less physically. Between the fibro pain, the finances in general, having to pay COBRA $800 for their mistake, the leaking water heater, and the dead garbage disposal, I'm feeling stressed, discouraged, and generally miserable. If you were here, you'd tell me that none of this has taken God by surprise. I find that hearing your voice in my head isn't quite the same as hearing it with my ears. I miss your encouragement.
So tonight I want to know where I go to resign. It's a beautiful evening, the animals love me, and none of that is helping. I'll feel better tomorrow. I hope to get to church tomorrow night for the Vesperal Liturgy for the Feast of the Transfiguration, but told Father it would depend on what restrictions I have after my eye surgery tomorrow. I'm supposed to have this done twice because they don't like to do both eyes on the same day, but I hope to talk them into doing both because it's hard to find somebody to drive me all the way to Warsaw.
There is one bit of good news. For the first time since your death, I'm watching sports and enjoying it. The Hall of Fame Game is on. It's Miami and Dallas, so who cares who wins, but I've been really eager for football season to start. Football feels like it used to feel. I've been remembering all those autumn Saturday and Sunday afternoons in Springfield that I watched football while you were at work. I'd have the windows open - everybody on the street had their windows open - and I'd hear people yelling from every house.
Thanks for letting me grouse. I know it will all work out, but please do pray for me tonight. I'm feeling rather helpless right now. And I miss you so, so much.