Home » Cancer » When ‘normal’ is the new weird.

When ‘normal’ is the new weird.

Today was weird. You probably wouldn’t have thought so.

It’s Sunday so I went out to breakfast with my Mom and my sister. I even took the 3 dogs to the diner and tied them up outside. They have a dedicated dog tie pole. Very cool thing, having dog parking.

It was crowded so we walked up to the corner and back, looking at the tulips and daffodils, while we waited for a table. Ordered, ate, I had to control myself, what with all the corned beef and bacon and syrup and pancakes. Whew! Two eggs, extra crisp hash browns, tomatoes and a biscuit. A real indulgence all around. Fried potatoes-off my list. Fried eggs, also verboten. Fried anything, really. They make a delicious roasted tomatillo salsa with big chunks of soft sweet onions so I put that on my biscuit instead of jam. Who needs jam?

Afterwards we went for a walk on the waterfront and looked at dogs and people and planters. I’m planning a raised bed garden so I can grow some good food this summer. And pickle stuff. Love pickles.

But the thing about all this is, it’s so strange.

To be ‘normal’ and have breakfast and walk dogs. I had the money to buy breakfast. That alone made me emotional. Over fried eggs. Can you imagine how it feels to get choked up over THAT. “Ooohhh, eggs? Coffee!? Look, people! There are people and I’m here. I’m sitting here. Eating fried food.”

I was so jazzed. It was unreal. I didn’t want to go home. I wanted to GO somewhere. I didn’t care where. I had energy for the first time in months. I could feel it. The stress was gone for THIS morning. I could breathe for THIS MORNING. Who knows what will happen tomorrow? I can’t just assume I’ll have energy or anything like $50 in my wallet. So I had to go somewhere. Liza went home with the dogs, she didn’t want to just wander off somewhere with 3 dogs. Mom was having a very well deserved, quiet day with no alarm bells, no panics, no bad news, no driving me to doctors appointments.

So off I went. By myself. It felt weird. To be by myself with gas in the car. As usual I got emotional listening to the radio. This time it was that song ‘Precious Time’ by Van Morrison. From his ‘Back On Top’ cd. Don’t you just love it when music can make you weep? Mind you I was already feeling weird. The idea of looking forward to shopping, listening to the radio and a great song comes on unexpectedly, being able to sing it (badly) and cry without freaking out your passenger…priceless. I was getting into this groove…by myself.

I went to JCP. I’ve lost some weight and I need some pants and a couple of shirts I can wear to chemo. And a bra. Turns out the port is just below my collarbone and that’s right where my former bra strap used to live. I hate bra shopping. So, in the interest of my mental well being, I didn’t bra shop. It’s bad enough buying trousers. Not to mention tee shirts that are long enough, button shirts that don’t gape open and show my bra. I dislike shopping. Almost 6 ft tall? Everything is too short in the leg and too narrow in the shoulder. Too wide in the thigh, baggy in the butt, too low in the rise. I really hate shopping. Unless you can really spend money AND you’re almost 6ft tall AND thin. Which I’m not.

This is how relaxed I feel right now.

This is how relaxed I feel right now.

But I have to say JCP -the former JC Penny-is amazing! Whoever is doing their buying, I want to kiss them. Who ever redesigned those stores, kudos dude. Good job. Nice clothes, inexpensive and they look great on me. And what a ridiculous sale! Everything I picked up fit me and was inexpensive. Not cheap looking. Everything looked good. It was so weird. Like a parallel universe.

Women out there know. Shopping days like that are a gift from God. You can find the size, colour, fit, length, anything you want, it’s hanging there, on sale, 75% off. For $40 I got 3 pairs of Buffalo Jeans, one of my favorite brands, 3 tees that fit me (miracle!) and clean, tidy try on rooms.

I was in weird Heaven. It was like God just cut me some slack today. No pain, no weakness, good music, beautiful clothes, food, sunshine…it was perfect today.

Weird.

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4 thoughts on “When ‘normal’ is the new weird.

  1. Having been on a few fruitless shopping expeditions with Mrs Peckish, I have a small idea of the shopping dilemma. It’s so much easier doing the shopping for me. Most of the time I know exactly where to go and they’ll have something that will work for me. With women there are all the sizing issues, one shop’s size 8 is another’s size 10, or 6, or 0, or S, or XS, or M. And we haven’t even got into shoes or jewellery or handbags. Thank goodness Mrs Peckish isn’t into hats. There are so many ways guys have it easier than women it’s not even funny, and half the men out there don’t even realise it.

    • So very true. Mrs. Peckish would have appreciated this day. Any woman would. There were even hats. I had to draw the line somewhere though. Besides everyone I know is giving me hats. Lots and lots of hats.

      I used to get so frustrated with Kevin (my wonderful ex husband-I mean it, too. He was great for someone raised by HIS mother) I ended up buying his clothes for him. He just wouldn’t shop. Wouldn’t even come with. We both would have looked homeless. Plus being 125 km from the nearest mall…aaaeiiiiii!!! A long, boring, fruitless, expensive day. Except for the pub. I always went to the pub first. 3 or 4 pints…Kevin was actually easy. Levi’s. socks, underwear, plain not white tee shirts. One pocket. Once in awhile a button shirt. Plaid.
      Biker shit.

      Sometimes I’d find something. Like a vest. Or a pair of shorts in January.

      Me. Humph…I went to visit family in Vancouver, BC or Los Angeles at least once a year. No kidding. Then I’d shop. Enough for a year. Buy two if it fit. Done.

      It’s strange living so close to a big city like Seattle again. Love this place. I’m a city girl again.

      Thanks for the visit. Always a pleasure.

      • I always get a chuckle out of the men who won’t shop for clothes stereotype. I don’t get it. Clothes shopping is a bit like laundry for me. I don’t really like anyone doing it for me, because if anything goes wrong, I only want to have myself to blame. Find something you like, try it on, check it with Mrs P, sorted.

        I think I’d shop the same way as you if I had to travel 125kms to the nearest mall. As it is sometimes I’ll buy two of something if I really like it. Don’t like to be caught short for my favourite shirt because it’s in the laundry basket or still waiting to dry. I’ve had the odd shop staff look at me funny (last time the pants weren’t even the same, just a similar colour and cut!) but what do I care, no-one else other than Mrs P can keep track enough of my clothes to notice, and she’s married to me, it’s too late for her to protest.

      • HAR… You’re probably stylish as hell. But the no shopping thing was really my fault with Kevin. I mean, really, he was 40 when I met him. He had clothes. I just let him get lazy. Totally.

        Funny thing is he got so lazy that he turned into a nag. Where’s supper. Where are you going? Drinking, again? I hate karaoke. Did you get the truck tuned up? When was the last oil change? If you don’t start your motorcycle the battery will run down. What’s in my lunch? Who was that on the phone? I don’t care if the lawn is overgrown, you do. So mow it. ‘

        Aaieeee…I had to move out just to save my sanity.

        Thanks for the check in. Love it.

There is no sin except stupidity.

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