I feel like writing, but no real subject pops up. Just a couple of little things:
- I’m in the process of figuring out what constitutes an asthma attack and what doesn’t. I mean, not being able to take a deep breath is certainly a major symptom, but what else? Turns out I have two of the more unusual asthma symptoms around: sighing and anxiety. Perhaps those anxiety attacks I had back in late 2006-early 2007 were really early warning signs of my asthma. And I find I sigh quite frequently, which is confusing around friends because they’re sure that I’m thinking deep, heavy thoughts when in reality I’m just trying to find a way of catching my breath. Excessive yawning is another way of catching my breath, so if I’m yawning around you, it’s not because I’m tired or bored. Probably.
- I have a deep dark secret to reveal: there are quite a few ’70s songs that I love unreservedly. Many of them are a bit on the cheesy side, while others at least approach The Land of Cheez. Wildfire, Seasons in the Sun, The Night That The Lights Went Out In Georgia, The Night Chicago Died, If You Could Read My Mind, The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald, The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face, etc, etc, etc. Even non-cheesy ’60s songs get me going (i.e. To Sir With Love). Play any of these songs and I guarantee that I will stop in my tracks and start singing along. At some point I will close my eyes and most likely sway. If my sense of restraint is completely gone, dancing will ensue. Admittedly, several of them became big around the time that my sister died, so songs like Wildfire, Seasons in the Sun, and If You Could Read My Mind (or anything mentioning death or disappearance) are irretrievably twined with memories of grief and recovery, but damn if I don’t still love all these songs (and more!) with all my heart and soul. *sigh*
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