9:11am, Palm Desert, Friday morning, December 24, 2021, Christmas Eve. We got out of chandler at 6:30am. It has rained off and on during the trip but nothing too terrible. We should make it to Orange County in a couple of hours.
Author: mikemeyer949
On call tonight
12:06am, in my apartment in Chandler, Arizona, lying in bed, early morning December 24, 2021, Christmas Eve. The nurse working on call tonight had her car breakdown this morning. I offered to drive if she needed to go out. At 8:30pm two calls came in, a visit and a death call, both in the west valley. I just got back home. My mom and I will soon leave for Christmas in California, though a big storm is in Orange County and headed this way.
The WIL’s Birthday
8:50am, sitting in my truck outside my apartment, Chandler, Arizona, Thursday morning, December 23, 2021, two days before Christmas. I left my phone on the bed when I went to work this morning so I had to drive home to get it because the corporate security system won’t allow access to email without using two-step verification. I wasn’t upset I had to make the extra trip, the office is kind of boring right now. Today is the WIL’s birthday, which gives me mixed emotions. On one hand I am thinking about of her and everything we shared over the years. However, her birthday wasn’t typically a day we got to spend together since she often had plans with family and friends. I feel a million miles away from her right now. That breaks my heart because I miss her terribly, yet if I am honest, I am thankful for the reprieve.
Running errands
5pm, parking lot in chandler, Arizona, Wednesday evening, December 22, 2021, three days until Christmas. My mom wanted to go to the wholesale outlet to buy water, paper towels and a bag of chocolate candy. It wasn’t too crowded but, as we were leaving, my wife texted, suggesting we pick up snacks for Christmas Eve. I am in the car waiting while my mom goes back in.
Why do I keep the most valuable parts of me hidden?
8:09am, in my office, Phoenix, Arizona, Wednesday morning, December 22, 2021, three days until Christmas. No one knows I am a writer. I internally identify as a writer, I have for almost twenty years, but no one knows I write or have this blog. Why do I keep the most valuable parts of me hidden?
Holiday Plans Update
1:57pm, in my office, Phoenix, Arizona, Tuesday afternoon, December 21, 2021, listening to Christmas music. This morning my mom flew into Phoenix from Salt Lake City. I picked her up at the airport and took her grocery shopping before coming to the office. She will be here until next Tuesday. We will go to Orange County on Friday and come back on Sunday. My wife and daughter are coming to Phoenix on Sunday as well so I am excited. We have a lot of activities planned and my daughter has a new video game she wants help with. It will be a good end to 2021.
Haunted
11:40am, in my office, Phoenix, Arizona, Monday morning, December 20, 2021. Trapped in my office, frustration does not abate. I used to find solace dreaming of carefree summer days. Now, idle time haunts me more aggressively than the pointless work I despise.
A Dark Cloud of Emptiness
7:08am, in my apartment, Chandler, Arizona, Sunday morning, December 19, 2021. A dark cloud of emptiness resides in every soul. This cloud causes you to feel sad and alone. You ask, “Why is this cloud here? Where did it come from? How do I get rid of it?” To which there will be no answer. So you dream, scheme, move, change, grow, conquer, rise, fall, love and lose, all trying to eradicate the intruder. But no matter what, you won’t succeed. For life is defined by two things; the adventure you have trying to defeat the cloud, and the nobility you show realizing you never can.
Bitter pain of wrenching loss
7:08am, my apartment in Chandler, Arizona, Saturday morning, December 18, 2021. The road curved and flattened before undulating down. Was this the right path? Had I missed a turn? It seemed familiar, yet so much time had passed I couldn’t be sure. Then instantly, as if right on cue, the meadow opened before me. Sunlight washed over tall yellow flowers, the jagged mountains rose to meet the clouds and there, off in the distance, was the tiny house we called home. Bitter pain of wrenching loss, ridiculous hope for an impossible reunion and the always tortuous memories surrounded me. And in that moment I could not help but ask the question I knew would never be answered, “How did something so beautiful ever end?”
Proud
6:53pm, in my apartment, Chandler, Arizona, Friday night, December 17, 2021. Maybe it is weird to say this but, I am proud of the last post I wrote. Writing an informative article was something new for me and it turned out well. I will write in that style again.
