Wednesday, February 26, 2025

Wednesday, February 26, 2025

Day 197

Good morning, everybody!

A brand-new day to appreciate, endure, and enjoy.

Last night’s sleep? A disaster of sorts between 2:00 and 4:00. Fitful, restless, and punctuated by dreams that felt just a little too real.

Yesterday was Tuesday tax day, and it was an absolute madhouse. We were backed up all day, and you could see the frustration brewing in people’s faces…arms crossed, feet tapping, and eyes rolling and scanning the room wishing for eye contact to impress upon us, their agitation. Hurry up already! Fortunately, I was on a back wall and everybody waiting had their back to me…so I never caught the stare. Lucky me!🍀

Every tax return felt like rolling dice in a game of financial roulette, and of course, we had more complex cases than usual. By some miracle, we wrapped up exactly at 4:00 p.m., walked quickly (okay, limped) out of the bank just as they were locking the doors, and sighed with relief. We were happy to have finished all returns, but let’s be real—no one likes waiting even for a free service, no matter how nice they pretend to be about it.

So yesterday’s madness was, I think, keeping me from my slumber. Back to the dream. I was out in the countryside—maybe on a farm—wandering freely, breathing in the fresh air, enjoying the nice weather from yesterday?? The best though: my legs felt strong. No weakness, wobbles gone, just smooth, effortless movement. It was glorious! I remember thinking, Wow, my body is finally fixing itself! This is it! Then, boom—4:06 a.m. The real world rudely called. I rolled over, blinked at my cane sitting near the bed amidst the clutter of our current madness and slid (definitely not hopped) out of bed. Took a step. Yep. Just a dream. Damn.

But today’s looking up! Road trip time—heading out to Dixon to see Robyn and Jim, old NIU friends. It’ll be nice to break up the routine, maybe even sneak in a little tax talk (because apparently, I can’t escape it), but the real highlight? The hugs. There’s something about hugging a good friend that just feels… safe. Comforting. Like a deep exhale you didn’t realize you needed.

And now that I think about it, maybe that’s because I didn’t grow up in a hugging household. Too many kids, too much chaos, and way too much effort to squeeze in affection between keeping order. I get it. I think. But I’m glad I moved past that.

Actually, that reminds me—back in the mid-’90s, during my divorce, I had this therapist, John Papandrea (fellow NIU grad), who had a thing about hugs. At the end of each session, he’d ask me to give him one. At first, I resisted like he was asking me to donate a kidney. Over time, I became able to hug him, but not exactly willing. And now, nearly 30 years later? I’m both willing and able. Who knew therapy could work? Sure, I probably learned a lot more in those sessions, but the hugging lesson? That’s the one that stuck.

Have a great day!

Love you guys!❤️