I took this photo with the X-S20. Apparently I am not so good as the selfie culture at making the camera work in focus with the full articulating selfie screen.
Yeah. Depressed.
Feeling my age, my ribs are on the move in a twisty way that isn’t fun feeling. Bored, tired of Carrollton.
Jared tries. He took me out to the Marina again tonight, after taking me on our weekly outing for Burger King ice cream cones.
Fun fact, at least in Carrollton, GA: You can get two ice cream cones for $2.12. That’s the main eating out we do during the week.
And all that was well and good. Until I started in on how I hate Carrollton, how I want Jared to find another job so we can move to Atlanta.
The same old same old.
And I don’t know why, when I feel rejected, I go on this whole self-implosion thing.
Something happened last week that made me change some plans in the next couple of weeks. And as it happens, I am going to see my aunt and uncle instead of doing the thing that I was going to do, and I will likely have a far superior time seeing them and being loved on and all that than I would have had doing the other thing, which was probably riskier than I really want to admit it likely was, to begin with.
And I’m still mad about last December. Mostly because I’m mad at myself for thinking that inviting drama back into my life was a good idea at all.
I’ve spent the last nine months pretty darn unhappy because of it. And had an arguably necessary-anyway hysterectomy because I got all freaked out about cancer risks because of that encounter.
I guess in that respect, I should be grateful for last December. It probably wouldn’t have occurred to me to worry about cancer risks if I hadn’t had that encounter last December.
And mostly I go around mad all the time because it feels, to me, like just about everybody in my life has some sort of purpose, has their shit together, and I’m just sitting at home.
And I guess it’s accurate to say that some of the people I have in mind do actually have their shit together.
But none of them are married to Jared Price. I’m the only one who got to do that.
And probably not many of them are told on a daily basis the things he tells only me.
It’s about now in the depression cycle that I realize that it’s been about a week since I’ve done a gratitude list.
The truth is, not much about my life has turned out the way I thought it would, or honestly, the way that I wanted it to.
And I mostly walk around mad, angry at the world, and despondent because of it.
And I think back to that 18 year old and I would tell her to ditch all the preconceived notions about how life should go. That it’s all about to change, like, tomorrow.
But probably, she’d already known that for a good couple of years or so.
Tomorrow is a new day. I’ll go volunteer in the city with “my ladies,” as Jared calls them.
And then I’ll go see my aunt and uncle for the weekend, and probably have some yummy Costco mac and cheese, which I haven’t actually had since the last time I saw them, in February.
And, I do actually realized how privileged it is that I was born into the family that I was born into, and that we can afford to feed ourselves despite the fact that I do not work.
It does not negate the fact that I feel somehow that I am not living up to my potential, and there have been missed opportunities. And squandered opportunities. And lost time. and lost relationships.
I am sitting here with Porter while he fills out the paperwork to take his driver’s test.
Porter will turn 19 in just a couple of weeks.
At this point over the past 19 years, I have said all this ad nauseum. But I am going to say it all again.
I remember sitting in NICU Bay 20 at the University of Iowa Hospital about a week after Porter was born. It seemed like the monitors were going off constantly and I remember thinking “God, thank you for letting me be his mom for a week at least.”
Oh Caroline, oh ye of little faith.
This firstborn of ours has astounded me at every. single. turn.
And this man— this man who wasn’t satisfied to have made the waitlist at UGA his first year, who really did want to show UGA he belonged there— this man will be attending the Honors College at UGA this Fall. We move him in on Friday.
This man that is brilliant. And gentle. And kind. And loves his pup. And his friends. And his family.
This man that fiercely loves his Mom.
There are no words for how very proud I am of Porter.
I wish I could go back and tell that 2006 version of myself all about the astounding things that baby would go on to accomplish. That breathing and a steady heart rate were just the start.
Today is six weeks post-op and I am confident I am 100% recovered! I managed the entirety of the first segment of my Inhale Steve Ross yoga today, I managed 10 minutes on my stationary bike, and I managed a lot of my arm-related physical therapy exercises.
I am feeling really, really good about having the hysterectomy. All things considered, my recovery was as uncomplicated as I could have asked for. I am thrilled.
I got a vaccination yesterday and was asked if there was any chance I was pregnant for the first time. I just laughed and said, “Nope,” and explained about the surgery. The nurse laughed when I told her it was the first time I’d been asked that question since the surgery.
We will have family visiting for the next few days and I am thrilled about that, too! Bowling is on the agenda; we might go to a jazz concert tonight, and of course the fireworks for the 4th. We like to go to the overlook by the high school to sit because it’s not quite as crowded.
I decided to hold off on selling any of my camera gear. It would be better to sell after I officially close the business in August anyway. Plus, Jared is right: we do not have the funds currently to replace my camera if I broke it or if it started malfunctioning, so it is best to hold onto the backup GFX 50sII for now. I will likely reassess in January or so.
I did figure out I can do 1:1 macro photography with my Schneider-Kreuznach Cinelux lens, however, and I am thrilled! The photo above of one of our aging hydrangeas is one of my first attempts. It’s tricky and limited, however, because I only have the f2 aperture, of course. It works for shots like this but I will have to be picky about how I go about such photography because of the thin depth of field. Not complaining at all, it’s just an artistic feature. Another reason that lens is one of my favorites.
I really do think it is possible I could survive with just my 80mm f1.7 Fuji lens, that Cinelux lens, and my 50mm f2 Minolta lens. Food for thought, for sure.
Today’s goal was basic: get a shower. Goal accomplished.
Tuesday was a rough day; I wasn’t feeling physically great after having way-overdone it on Monday. I was pretty sure I was going to have to go back in, which now feels funny considering it’s Friday and I feel much better, if a little washed out.
It is difficult to remember that I am recovering from major surgery. It’s hard to think of it as major surgery because all in all, pain was minimal and I don’t have crazy external incisions at all. Just three tiny little almost cute incisions.
But Tuesday reminded me that I have to take it easy. I don’t like it and I am bored and it feels ridiculous. But it is what it is.
I am considering selling my second camera and a few of my lenses. I sort of have this vision of being a one-camera, one-lens photographer. Kind of funny to circle back around to that after so many years of chasing better and more, photography-wise. But, here we are.
And then there are the days like today where I am writing, where I only took a single photo of Bess our cat, where I just am sort of existing.
It is difficult to be kind to myself sometimes.
Fridays in the summer Jared is off, so we took Oliver to a bouncy house in town earlier in the day:
It’s pretty funny that I got a photo of one of the little kid bouncy houses– Oliver was playing in a lot of others but not this one.
It’s been raining a lot, and with my brief setback earlier in the week, Oliver didn’t make it to the pool. I feel bad about it, but we’re going to try to do more next week.
