Blame it on Nic
I’m at the threshold of giving up the nicotine yet again – okay, so I have had some lapses – but I think I got it going this time as I have had an insufferable last three days – crying jags that don’t stop – bouts of mania – I exercised twice yesterday because I was wound up like a top – a long run, a weight class – I was throwing off sparks by the time I got to the parade last night.
And I walked this afternoon with N and Renny and the Bean, N said I wasn’t looking that goody – she said she was going to get a Raggedy Andy doll and put a kilt on it and hang it from the bridge and set it on fire – because she was tired of him making me cry. I told her he was definitely going in my hall of fame for most tears shed and I’m tired of crying too but I think it might be the nicotine withdrawal maybe more than the N withdrawal because I have been pretty woolly the last three days, which have been nicotine free – I’ve been three months of dealing wtih the withdrawal of N. She said she was going to get the Raggedy Andy doll anyway and when she burned it she was going to take a picture and send it to him. I said I’m sure he’d love it. Probably frame it and hang it in his new house.
Then S came out with Leo and hailed us both and said that she had heard from some of the nuns that the charities are not giving any money to the poor in the 9th ward because they are not going to help anyone relocate back here. They said these people are better off where they have landed and now have a chance in their lives. Poor New Orleans.
Meanwhile we went our separate ways – N was going to M’s birthday party and I was coming home to go meet G for cocktails. She called me having gotten over to M’s party before I even started getting ready and said there was a sign on the door that M had another heart attack – 34 years old – and he’s in the hospital. Takes my nic/N woes and puts them in perspective – here M is such a handsome young man and on his birthday he is in the hospital with a bum ticker. Humbling.
Then I went to get my mail and Cliff left me a note saying I had a package at the security desk. I got it and came upstairs and it was from T in Los Angeles – I opened it and read the inscription and have not stopped laughing since. She ran into Jackie Collins in the grocery store and had her autograph her new book for me – so it says “Rachel, Stay Strong and Best of Luck, Jackie Collins.” In T’s note she says to get on it and go ahead and write the book, if Jackie can do it, so can you. I am still laughing about Jackie telling me to Stay Strong. Puts things in perspective too.
Mom got a call from the administrator of a nursing home in Raceland saying they were desperate for a Director so she took the job. Crazy – she told me it takes 25 minutes to get there and I told her in her dreams it takes 25 minutes – she just admitted it was 40 minutes but it’s a drive in the country so beautiful – I told her to tell me that after she had done it every day. Mothers, whatyagonnado?