Go away, make me want to miss you

Self isolation doesn't seem to be hitting me as hard as some others. I think that's because I already went through a year of it. And fortunately unlike a lot of people, I still have a job.

Home has always been my safe place and now I get to be here a lot. My friends are all still safe. And I've seen kindness that doesn't always come with living in Toronto.

The only person I'm "allowed" to go see is my old boss. He had to close the flower shop so I just pop in every couple of days to check up and make sure everyone is okay. Usually bring home some flowers.

My boyfriend is very cautious cause hey, if anyone is going to die from this it'll be the girl who is always in the hospital. So I wear my mask and gloves and stay away from mostly everyone. The thing he doesn't get is while I worry about others, I'm not worried about me, I'm never going to die. It would have happened by now.

I worry about him and the others who aren't used to being isolated without a social system. In this pandemic, people have lost more than their health. They have lost who they are. Without our jobs and our friends and our constantly overloaded calendars of things to do, who are we?

We are basically living a country music song, three chords and the truth. The truth is not always easy to accept. I miss my girlfriends, hell I even miss working from my office. But this won't kill me. I still have to get home to see my grandma it was supposed to have happened already. And Jay and I put off our trip to Costa Rica last year, so we gotta do that too.

I'm happy we got to Nashville before this really broke out in North America. When one of us is having a bad day Lindsay or I will just say remember when we were in Nashville? We went to the Bluebird! LEGENDARY.

For the next few months, we just need to be careful and keep trying to be grateful for what we have and have had. Maybe we're just getting by. That's good enough for now. C'mon people, let's at least try to remember what day of the week it is. And shower and change our clothes once in awhile. Or all we will go down in history is a tragic story of some guy half a world away who ate a bat and then everyone fought over toilet paper. We don't want to be remembered for that!

The other day my old boss was cleaning out the store and he gave me tons of flowers. Too many to handle really. I made little bouquets and left them outside all my neighbours doors. One of them dropped off dinner for me the other night and left it outside my door and we both made it at the same time and just talked on the phone while we ate. One of my girlfriends got, by the grace of the Gods, some disinfecting wipes and left them outside my door. This is what we want to be remembered for. Little acts of kindness. And we will never take for granted FaceTime, toilet paper or Lysol wipes again. Just remember during this crisis, there's more to life than Netflix. :)

There are tons of places that would love to have volunteers to pick up phone calls and talk to people who need help. If you're doing a grocery run think about who might need something from the store, especially those who can't get out at all. And there are lots of things we can do from home to help and stay feeling fulfilled.

And eventually, it will pass and life will go back to normal. Hopefully we learned something. Don't lose hope, send it to other people and we can all come out of this better, stronger.

Just because it burns it doesn't mean you're gonna die. You got to get up and try. - Pink 

If I'm wrong blow me one last kiss and we'll all call it even.

Sullivan out.

Melancholy and the Infinite Sadness of Being Happy

I feel sorry for millenials. All true forms of art seem to be dying off with our childhood heroes. And we're not kidding anyone, we came way before the millenials. Bowie, Prince, Michael Jackson *oh yah i totally went there* everyone who has ever written a book worth reading? Dead. Except Margaret Atwood and I have some suspicions that she's actually dead pretending to be alive, I met her (she's dead).  I was looking at books at a book store the other day. They had roughly drawn stick pictures in them. I'm like this make the New York Times? *she shakes her head* and remembers she has overdue library books.

I'm as much to blame as anyone else. Everyone is like, you're a writer? Yes. You have a book? Yes. Is it hidden in some secret file on my computer that I intent to leave a letter with the instructions on how to find it with Jay for when I die? Yes.

When I get upset, I don't say, I'm feeling conflicted. I need to take some time to figure out the most positive course of action. One that will enable me and those I care for to successfully navigate this situation and ensure the best possible outcome.

I send my best a friend a text that says "FML". While I truly love the eff word deeply, I'm not using my better words anymore.

You know what's a great word? Melancholy. 

On that note, I tolerate my MBA, with only one course left after this one, I don't care anymore. I'm struggling to figure out why I cared in the first place. All that time and money. Will those three little letters after my name change anything? NO. Life doesn't care if you are smarter than someone else. The jdubs discourage education which is why I went ALL THE WAY. What I learned was I was always this smart and now I've spent so much money just to prove it to other people, who let's be honest, don't give a fuck.

Charisma, courage, passion, those are what you should do an MBA in. I'm so bored with myself, I don't know how other people even put up with me. Like let me help you with your marketing strategy, throw me a math problem I can't solve or a business I can't turn around by working your assets and assessing your balance sheets. Boring.

Today, I am definitely supposed to be writing a paper. Instead? I lure my boyfriend/manfriend/lifepartner/husband whatever you want to call him to kensignton market so I can buy sage to burn all the negative energy out of our place and get new earrings. I really just wanted to go to Blackbird Baking and Courage my Love and all the places that stole all the best names.

Then we got Vietnamese food and we're running late. So I'm like just drop me off at the market (the other market) cause Ken would would be very upset if I didn't show on a Saturday. Dudes there alone. I'm like where's Robin? She couldn't work. I've offered 17 million times to work for free on the weekends. I jump behind the cash and start ringing people in and packaging flowers. Sweep the floors and take out the garbage. Yes, I love my marketing job. Yes, I'm somewhat important. You cannot however compete for working in a flower shop for minimum wage. I was so lucky I got to do that. Coming home and your whole place smells like beauty and hope.

Some guy was saying shit about our green roses which are actually my favorite and I wanted to punch him. That's your passion, charisma and courage. But the customer is always right. I have an MBA bud. These green ish roses are amazing and by the way, I know your girlfriend and in her culture those white ones mean death and she believes it. Have fun with buying those. :)

Life is more fun when it's fun. Bur damn tomorrow I gotta stop breathing in the flowers and write that paper. Finish line is in sight. Hey, I still remember how to use my words so I'm betting on that to get me through to the other side. My massage therapist is like why do you hate yourself so much? Your body doesn't like you. You'll probably come in here next time saying you're doing your PhD. NO EFFING WAY. Thanks for looking out for me though Craig. :)

PS. I get over this, I might do my PhD, (I'm so so so sorry Jay) cause I've always thought I'd be a great therapist. But definitely a long enough break is planned where I will be the best partner and dog mom and make up for this MBA mess. 

Sullivan out.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                             

Forever 27

I missed my birthday blog. I haven't been feeling well. I had a great birthday weekend though. Lots of dog park time. Which is perfect.

My friends and family are all trained. I turn 27 every year on February 27th. So all my cards say Happy 27th! This year though, I feel too damn young to feel this old.

I've laboured over this blog. I've written it, deleted it and re-written it so many times in my head. Us writers are a strange breed who walk around talking to ourselves and writing in notebooks. It's just a birthday, I know. And age is just a number. But I'm always honest with y'all so...this was my last birthday in my 30s. But 40 is the new 30 right? I'm still pretty. :)

And I finally feel like I know who I am, what I want out of life and what I don't want. I couldn't get all my friends together last Saturday night so I celebrated for a week. Dalyse took me to a Blue Rodeo concert. Lindsay took me shopping. Robin took me to the dog park. Jay and Spencer sang Happy Birthday while I blew out the candles on my cake.

I have the most amazing friends. I'm happy with my job. I still feel like I'm playing catch-up with life, after all those years I spent slaving for the JWs. But the Universe has been kind to me.

I've been married to a great, handsome guy. I've been madly in love after that. I've lost so many people that I love so much, but I've found something that I think will ground me for the second half of my life. I love myself. I've been volunteering more lately and I feel like perhaps I'm actually making a difference again. Although the corporate life can be taxing, I'm in a position where I've made so many relationships, I can leverage their support to help these causes that I care about.

I feel like I've lived 3 different lives so far. This one is the scariest. But it's also my favorite. I've learned a lot living on the outside of my past life. I've learned how to trust again, how to love again. How to start over from absolutely nothing - no home, no money, no friends - and accept the help that I used to be too proud to take.

As a Jehovah's Witness being part of "the world" was the worst thing. I thought I might save the world when I was one of them.  In the end though, the world saved me. And now I'm strong enough to start trying to do that again. I'm a bit weathered from the fight but that's okay.

I know now that we shouldn't judge others. That none of us are better than anyone else. That we need to erase stigmas. That mental health issues are real. That we are all fighting a hard battle, so let's just be kind. I've come a long way from where I began. The journey continues...

Sullivan out.