My Subconscious Self Preserving my Conscious Self

Unless Mother Nature flexes her muscles and dumps more WHITE SHIT this Saturday, I will be heading to Jersey for yet another (and for the foreseeable time being, LAST) thankless 24 hours of my life I'm donating to "Audrey's" cause.

Turns out, my subconscious self, or perhaps a bit of serendipity is to blame, has structured "book end" activities in such a way as to preserve, what I can, of my sanity and physical fortitude that will no doubt be depleted in the scant 24 hours I plan on DONATING to the charity case known as Audrey.

Day before:
Book end #1: Friday a.m. before work, I have an 8:45 a.m. phone in session with my therapist.

Day of:
Planned Relief #1: I plan on stopping off at my friend's shop to pick something up for an event in April. This will give me a chance to stretch my legs, use the restroom, get some friendly interaction before driving nearly one more hour, to end up directly in the mouth of the lion.
 
Once I get to Audrey's house, the initial plan is indentured servitude, as sis wants to do a preliminary purge of extraneous shit out of mom's house, assuming (perhaps rightly) mom won't be coming home. We find out this week when she'll be transitioning from the hospital to the rehab center and from date of transfer, we will have 20 days to do whatever we can without her influence/interference. Purge out what we can, and after 20 days, does she come home? Or will we have to liquidate the house for sale, to subsidize her being in a nursing home permanently?

And of course, I can't drive all that way without seeing Audrey. You know her? The cunt with the never ending craving for life blood and good will? Yeah. Her.

Evening of:
Planned Relief #2:  Bright spot capping off what will no doubt be a draining, thankless day, will be the idea of having dinner with my friend who was so kind to visit mom. And I have a certain measure of a thrill cooking a meal for someone who is a trained chef, someone who KNOWS what good food IS, not someone like Audrey who slops stuff together and thinks VOILA! Good eats! (NOT!!!) This is the same woman, who, when Hurricane Sandy hit a few years back, was eating meat which had remained unrefrigerated for FOUR FUCKING DAYS. Yeah. Good times. People in their right mind do not eat rotten meat. Clearly, she's got adequate mental acuity to continue to live alone. (NOT!!!)

Day after:
Planned Relief #3: GO HOME. DECOMPRESS.

Monday:
Planned Relief #4: Deep tissue massage (to undo all the angst) and spend time with my husband.

Tuesday:
Book end #2: Chiropractic adjustment (to undo all the angst).

So, this post is brought to you by an aphorism and a Jewish proverb:

Aphorism:
"Let no good deed go unpunished."

Jewish Proverb:
"Man makes plans, and God laughs."

My final thought in this blog post:
Life, by its very nature, is a character building exercise. Some folks choose to be Jiminy Cricket, whereas others can't help but personify Cruella Deville.