It's a weird feeling. Somebody asks what's going on in my life and I'm just bursting to respond with all this news, and I suddenly realize it's a very quiet time in my life. All the news, all the drama I'm feeling, is somebody else's.
There's plenty of drama. Steve's moving - today, in fact. My niece and her husband and baby are dealing with the Truman flooding, and I still haven't gotten communication through and back again. Another niece and hubby are vacationing with my brother and catching lots of fish, which was hubby's dream for this trip. My daughter and her husband will be vacationing in Nova Scotia. Daddy got his state ID renewed, registered to vote, and received his absentee ballot. One friend is recovering from surgery but something's still not right, somebody's remission ended, somebody else I know is dealing with head trauma (again, I'm missing an update), somebody else just came out. Somebody just admitted to me an affair with a married partner, and somebody else bragged about activities both unethical and illegal (third hand info).
I'm plodding along, working, reading more books, paying bills on time, writing in bits and pieces, pulling a few major weeds from the garden. My campaign is proceeding, though very low key (I'm told I'll be in a parade Saturday with other women candidates.) I don't want nor need all these other people's drama for myself. I would hate all that drama for myself. (Well, Nova Scotia sounds cool.)
And yet, somehow, I'm just bursting with it.