Something About Us

 It's almost May, of the wierdest, most surreal springtime.

I had listened to most of Daft Punk's catalogue, but I didn't hear "Something about us" until 2024, despite it coming out over 20 years prior. Jen had already receicved her terminal diagnosis, and the song spoke to me so strongly on the first listen. One of those songs that doesn't need any time crawling into your brain and getting stuck. There's only one stanza of lyrics, and I feel them on a deep level.

It's been a tough month. Avery and I survived. I have a lot of guilt with the way I carried myself through the last month. I have high bar for myself and for Avery, and I'm impatient with getting a fitness for my new single-parent, single-income family. I do hamstring myself, but I also have a deep fatigue that is wearing off slowly. Those who know me and know us think we are doing well. I try to hear them. In the scheme of things, being only 5 weeks out from my partner's death, people are giving me more grace and space than I'm giving myself. I grieve differently, and while people understand that statement, they don't really understand my process.

I have 8-9 weeks until summer break. Avery will have her 4th birthday party in there and we'll coordinate some overnight trips to Nanaimo once my parents return home from Turkey in a month. But nothing wild or crazy. It'll be spring in Victoria and that really sells iteself. I hold guilt for not engaging frequently enough with estate tasks, but July really feels like the next time I'll have the mental space and the time to get those tasks done right. I'm holding anxiety around doing taxes, it's a task I've never done before, always Jen. And I have plenty of anxiety about my future teaching contracts, I'm feeling stuck in a small but permanent contract, and I'm considering changing things up.

I miss my friends. I don't talk much anymore, not about my day or about the news or about random stuff. I have a number of friends who reach out regularly via text, and I do feel guilt when I can't connect with someone who wants to drop off muffins. The truth is that I have more domestic demands and so less social time. But some of my best friends haven't been checking in much. It's too much for me to reach out to someone because I need their support or friendship. And that's super temporary, I know I'll be able to get back to initiating contact. But right now, if I have a free minute when I might historically have grabbed my phone, I'm not grabbing my phone. I'm grabbing a short breather from life because my waves of fatigue know exactly when I have a free moment.

That's all for now, my pro-d session is about to start next door (I'm writing from the PHE office in Mt Doug).

'I'm a barbie girl, in a barbie world'