Doggonedmysteries

I know who I was.

I know I have changed.

Used to be I’d wake up, read my newspaper, and drink a cup of coffee. Then I’d scramble and get things done and go to work.

Then we started to have delivery problems, and collection problems, until I finally had enough and called the paper to cancel my subscription.

Then The Curmudgeon’s health went to hell and I had to become his caregiver instead of his partner, wife, lover, and friend.

My routine became watching the news while gulping down my morning coffee after taking care of him and the dogs.

That too stopped. I don’t remember when but I quit watching the news. I could no longer take the violence and stupidity. I also no longer had the time or the patience to sit still and watch it.

Yeah, watching the news these days takes patience. ‘Alternative truths’ really tick me off. When I start yelling at newscasters and politicians for telling lies, and let us please call them what they are, LIES, I know I have to stop and change the channel.

I’ve stopped writing my books, no time for them, and my mind is too cluttered with everything else I need to remember. Like what pills The Curmudgeon takes and when. Not mixing up the dog’s medications, and remembering to take my own.

I have enough to do just to keep this house semi-running. I can’t spend a lot of time writing for pleasure.

I miss writing for pleasure, but when I have to go on the computer to fact check newscasters and politicians, I know I need to start writing more like this and less like the mystery writer I wish to be.

I know my rebellion would make my father proud. He always did call me his little rebel.

This is who I am now… rebel, caregiver, disorganized housekeeper, poor blogger, and a slave to two dogs.

Oh, and if you don’t like my blog, don’t read it.