I haven't written much for the past couple weeks, other than a quick blurb.
It's not that there isn't fodder for writing, there always is. Thing is, it's always the same, and I don't want to sound too repetitive.

Things are status quo here. Still alive, still working, still worrying.

The other day I woke at 4am, plagued with what I like to call my "mortality anxiety". I woke thinking about dying. My death. How afraid I am of it. How I wonder who will be there with me at that moment, if anyone at all. My children's' deaths. How I hope to not live to see that day. But then again, if I don't, who will be there to comfort them while they are dying??
I know, morbid, right?
It can't seem to be helped. Sometimes I just go there. More often than I'd like, unfortunately.
I envy people of faith.

I still worry incessantly about my boy. His new four wheeler is the newest source of worry. It's a little race buggy that he drives fast, and jumps, and wheelies... I know he's always geared up... Chest plates, arm protectors, knee pads, helmet... But still. Ugh. Shoot me.
I worry about the little things too. School, his academics, is he making (good) friends, is he making wise choices, is he happy...
He's growing up so fast. He doesn't talk to me like he used to. He doesn't like affection so much anymore. He thinks I tell him I love him too much, he doesn't like it when I call him "babe" anymore (which I've called him for years), he doesn't want me to sit close to him on the couch.
It's his birthday today. He turns 15.
I looked back in my facebook memories today, and saw all kinds of pictures from over the years. You guessed it, I spent a bit of time crying over it all. Maybe more than a bit.

I still hate being alone. I'm still curious as to when that became a problem.
I'm codependent on my son (Norman Bates's mother syndrome still in full effect). I'm codependent on my job, my mother, my daughter, my "part-time" boyfriend, my dog, my beta fish.

I still worry about Daws and I, financially. I'm still doing it so far. But what about my meager savings? Will it be enough to give him a good Christmas? (And don't tell me to show him the spirit of Christmas instead of presents, blah blah friggin blah), Will I make enough to heat the house all winter? Keep paying the bills? The rent? What happens if the truck breaks down? I can't afford a car payment... Will I still be gainfully employed next month, next year? Are we going to make it? Will we be ok???

Last night I went out for the first time in months. I've become quite a shut-in this last year.
I wouldn't say I had "fun", per say, but it wasn't horrible. It was the typical bar scene action. I got hit on by a woman and two creepy drunk guys. I quietly made fun of various people with my friends. I managed to have a couple drinks, and realized I've become a lightweight when I had to stop at drink number two because I was starting to "feel it" and had to drive home later.
At closing time I was doing a little happy dance as we went out the door. My friend said- "You're excited to go home, aren't you? I haven't seen you this happy all night!"
Ah, the (anti)social life of a shut-in.

I have quite a bit of housework to do. I should get off this damn computer. I have to clean the house, go trade my iphone 6 plus back for an iphone 6 (I hate this gigantic phone), get ready for Dawson's birthday dinner...

I hate to end on a serious note, but...
I've realized nothing much has changed in my life over the years...
I'm still partially happy, at a mediocre level. I'm still sad a lot of the time. I'm still primarily alone.
I'm still waiting for that "something more" point in my life.

Ok, maybe I'll end with a joke instead of such solemnity...

What do you call a man with no arms and no legs in the autumn leaves?