I’m almost positive a bat attacked my window early this morning.  Birds have been doing it lately, but this morning I heard a great big thwap and a lot of struggling and slapping.  I opened the blind and there was something much bigger than a tweety bird.  I didn’t get my glasses on in time, so it actually might have been a squirrel, but I don’t know how on earth he would have gotten to my window or where he would have gone after.  Looked like a giant wingspan to me.

I’m calling this a good thing because believe it or not, though I’ve lived in the woods for 21 years and have had hilarious encounters with raccoons, coyotes, foxes, deer, and the like, I’ve never seen a bat in person.  Thanks, Boston!

Saying goodbye so often is one of the worst things about this year.  It makes that hour or so of feeling close and real disappear in a cloud of smoke and the sudden silence makes my head spin.  But I have to say that while I continue to have very, very rough patches and my body is still showing the physical signs of mental distress, the last three weeks have gone by–well, not quite quickly–but with more haste than I anticipated.

And while goodbyes still crush me, my recovery time has improved by several hours.  I still may not want to eat and my skull feels like it’s collapsing with the effort, but God dammit, I’m not going to cry.

Place your hand here, right here, and tell me if you can feel just how much my heart aches.

Two acorns and a leaf making a smile.

I cooked myself my first real meal since returning to Boston: chicken, broccoli, carrots, and potatoes.  Modest to some, monumental to me.

I am going to eat a gigantic burrito tomorrow.  It’s all my stomach can think about right now.

Also, I booked my flight back to Ireland for after Christmas.  I just keep telling myself, you just have to make it to The Office Christmas episode.

*As part of my ongoing efforts to stay positive and summon my good thoughts, I’m going to keep track of enjoyable things.