I got a little distracted this morning watching Starfleet Academy and completely forgot to write a post. It happens.
There’s not much exciting to report today, but I am seeing my new neurologist for the first time. I’ve been waiting nearly three years for the Headache Clinic to hire a new permanent neurologist, so this appointment has been a long time coming. I’m cautiously optimistic—and really hoping this one sticks around.
She seems fresh out of medical school—very Dr. Bashir energy—though I’m realistic enough to know she won’t be nearly as distractingly attractive.
And since I haven’t posted an Isabella Pic of the Week in a while, here’s one for this week. 🐾
Isabella woke me up way too early this morning and simply would not leave me alone. Eventually, I gave in, got up, fed her, and did something I almost never do when she wakes me before my alarm: I laid down on the couch, pulled a blanket over me, and went back to sleep.
I ended up sleeping a little longer than usual, which helped… a bit. I still don’t really want to be awake, but here we are—I have to go to work today. If I didn’t have two meetings I really don’t want to put off, I’d probably call in. Not just because I’m not feeling great, but because the weather is awful, and that almost guarantees a stressful drive in.
Last night, the news said this snow and wintery mix wouldn’t arrive until this evening. They were very explicit that my part of Vermont would be one of the last to see snow. Apparently, though, once the system crossed the mountains, it decided to ignore the forecast entirely and switched abruptly from rain to snow.
So now it’s dark and snowy, but at least it’s Thursday and tomorrow will be a work from home day. Right now, I’m just trying to convince myself that coffee will be enough to get my day started.
Home at last. A delayed flight from Washington, DC had me walking in just before 3 a.m., but now I’m back where I belong—with Isabella, her morning wet food served, and the quiet comfort of home. A gentle Moment of Zen before I crawl back into bed. 😴🐾
My niece gave me a “World’s Best Guncle” coffee mug—quietly, in private, so no one else saw. She didn’t say anything when she handed it to me, but I had the sense that my sister knew exactly what it was. My sister and brother-in-law fully include her partner in everything, so maybe my family is, slowly, getting better. Then again, who knows—since no one actually talks about it.
It was a somber Christmas in other ways. My great-uncle died early Christmas morning. He was 95, the last of my grandmama’s siblings—the last of that generation. I feel deeply for that branch of my family. His first wife, whom I never knew because she died before I was born, passed away two days before Christmas. His second wife died just a week after Christmas. Losing that generation makes the holidays feel different. They were the ones who held everyone together, the glue that kept us gathering year after year. Now, I rarely see those branches of the family anymore. In some ways, I wish I were staying a few extra days, just to be present with everyone who remains.
Mama’s health is also weighing heavily on me. Her dementia continues to worsen. She’s grown more frail, shuffles when she walks, has tremors, and becomes confused easily. There are still good moments—but when I woke her on Christmas Eve, she looked frightened and didn’t recognize me at first. That moment broke my heart in a way I’m not sure I can fully put into words.
I fly out today around 11 a.m. I won’t get into Burlington until close to midnight, which means—after waiting on baggage—I’ll be lucky to be home by 2 a.m. Two long layovers this year. I always try to keep it to one, but it never quite works out. There are no direct flights from Burlington to Montgomery, so travel days are always long days. Maybe one day I’ll marry a very wealthy man who can fly me straight to Montgomery on a private jet—but until then, this is just part of the deal.
What I’m most looking forward to is getting home to Isabella. I know she’s missed me. She’s been moping around the apartment while I’ve been gone, sleeping mostly in my spot on the bed instead of her usual place at the foot. She’s always incredibly chatty when I first get home, so I’m hoping she doesn’t wake the entire apartment complex loudly complaining about my disappearance while simultaneously being ecstatic that I’ve returned. Knowing her, it will be a bit of both.
For now, I’m grateful to have made it through the holidays, grateful for small signs of love and acceptance, and grateful that—after a very long day of travel—I’ll finally be home. Sometimes, that’s more than enough.
Isabella can be a bit of a needy diva at times—lovable, adorable, and absolutely convinced that my entire existence revolves around her schedule. This morning she woke me up just before 5 a.m., demanding breakfast with all the urgency of someone who had not been fed in minutes. I obliged, of course, and then crawled straight back into bed. I was originally supposed to be in the office this morning, but my class got rescheduled, which means a work-from-home day for me.
I fell asleep again almost instantly and drifted into the loveliest dream. In it, I was snuggled up next to a very handsome man—the kind of hot guy who makes your subconscious say, “Yes, let’s stay here.” He was straight in the dream, but we were sharing a bed anyway. Somehow the night had ended with us in nothing but our underwear, my head on his bare chest, his arm around me, the whole moment soft and warm and unexpectedly intimate.
When we woke up like that, dream-me stayed blissfully half asleep until he leaned down, kissed the top of my head, and murmured, “Good morning, lazy bones.” I made one of those half-asleep groans that means, I refuse to move, and he just pulled me closer. We drifted back to sleep like that—sweet, slow, and yes, very arousing. I was rock hard in the dream… and in real life, too. It was that good.
But of course, Isabella does not approve of me going back to bed once she has declared morning officially underway. After her first breakfast, she decided she needed my attention—or, more accurately, a second breakfast. Instead of enjoying more of my dream, I was summoned back to consciousness by a diva cat with very firm beliefs about my responsibilities.
And now? Isabella is curled up in the corner of the living room sound asleep, looking perfectly content, while I’m sitting on the couch writing this post.
Sigh.
Sometimes I wonder who’s actually in charge around here—but I already know the answer.
It’s been a bit of a rough 24 hours. Yesterday started with a migraine and nausea, and the longer I was up, the worse it got. Eventually the vomiting joined the party, and needless to say, I did not work yesterday. Instead, I slept off and on all day with my sweet Isabella curled up beside me. She’s always been good at sensing when I’m not feeling well. Sometimes that means she snuggles close; sometimes she simply stations herself nearby like a little feline guardian. She used to wake me up when my blood sugar dropped too low—thankfully that hasn’t been an issue for quite a while—but she’s still the most empathetic cat I’ve ever known.
I went to bed early last night but woke from a bad dream around 1:30 a.m. I’m not sure I’d call it a nightmare, but it was unpleasant enough to make getting back to sleep difficult. Eventually I drifted off again and slept until 5:15 a.m.—which is quite a bit later than Isabella usually allows. This time, at least, I was having a far more enjoyable dream. Let’s just say it involved meeting two guys at a bar and a rather delightful ménage à trois. Waking up from that was certainly nicer than waking up from yesterday’s misery.
I’m feeling much better today, thankfully. I’ll be at work for my half-day and need to get a few preparations done for the classes coming in next week. Afterward, I have a few errands to run, but I’m hoping it will be a good, calm day.
I hope all of you have a pleasant day as well. May it be migraine-free and maybe even dream-enhanced.
Today is a work-from-home day, and I’ve officially flipped the switch into cozy weekend mode. I’m off all next week, which feels wonderfully luxurious, and I can’t help daydreaming about hopping up to Montreal for a little adventure. Maybe one day soon. For now, I’ll settle for a quiet house, soft pajamas, and a cat who insists she’s the one really in charge of my schedule.
We’re expecting ice and snow this weekend, so I’ll likely be tucked safely inside—curled up with Isabella, who loves cold weather only because it means I become her heated mattress.
Wherever you find yourself this weekend, I hope it’s warm, gentle, and filled with small comforts. Stay safe, stay cozy, and enjoy every minute.
I’ve been so busy and stressed at work lately that I’m truly grateful to have the day off today. I have a few tentative plans, and if things work out, I might tell you about them tomorrow. For now, I don’t have much to say—just enjoying the rare luxury of a quiet morning.
Isabella was kind enough to let me sleep until almost 5 a.m., though she started halfheartedly trying around 4. Here’s this week’s Isabella Pic of the Week. Every time I see this picture, I think, “I am cat, hear me roar,” to the tune of Helen Reddy’s I Am Woman.
(Secret: She’s just yawning. 🥱 Isabella is a very quiet cat.)
It’s Monday again, and I’m heading into the week already tired. I have an upcoming event at the museum, and let’s just say the required food contractor has been the bane of my existence lately. I’ve done everything I can to get them to confirm the order, but so far, nothing. They only acknowledged it after I physically went to their office to demand answers. I’m hoping that today my bosses will let me cancel the order and go elsewhere. At this point, I’d gladly take a sandwich tray from just about anyone else—especially since the two places I have in mind would likely produce far better food anyway.
As if that weren’t enough, one of my speakers had to cancel because of the government shutdown. Thankfully, there were supposed to be two speakers, so at least I still have one. Now all I need is the food to feed the audience—no small feat when bureaucracy gets involved.
All of this has been more stressful than it should be. I like to plan things well in advance and make sure everything runs smoothly (knock on wood). Usually it does, but this one has been keeping me up at night. I went to bed early last night, but woke up around midnight worrying about it all, and it was after 2 a.m. before I finally fell back asleep. Isabella decided that 4:30 a.m. was the perfect time for breakfast, so I opened my eyes to find her sitting next to me, staring at me like I’d broken some sacred promise.
I’ve got two meetings at work today, and I’m honestly not sure how long I’ll make it. When I woke up in the middle of the night, I had a migraine, and it’s still lingering this morning. If it doesn’t ease up after my first meeting, I may wave the white flag and head home. I really do need to attend that first meeting—let’s just say there are complicated reasons—but it’s one more thing to juggle on top of everything else.
At this point, I’m reminding myself that the semester will slow down after mid-November. If I can just survive the next six weeks, maybe I can finally catch my breath.
Here’s to hoping the food order gets sorted, the migraine fades, and the day goes better than expected. And if not—well, at least there’s coffee.
Wishing you all a smoother start to your week than mine.
Usually I look forward to Fridays, but not this week. I’m not even looking forward to Saturday. This weekend brings with it our big annual set of events at the museum, which means lots of tours, lots of visitors, and lots of chaos. Today I have multiple tours lined up, and tomorrow I’ll be back again for one or two more—yes, working on a Saturday. Yesterday I put in a twelve-hour day, came home, and went straight to bed. This morning I’m running on sheer habit and coffee.
If there’s a silver lining, it’s that today will “only” be an eight-hour day and tomorrow about six. That may not sound like much of a break, but after the marathon that was yesterday, it’s something to be thankful for. Really, I’ll only feel relief when Sunday finally rolls around and I can rest, free from the craziness and hoopla.
And here is your Isabella Pic of the Week. This is the look I get when I’m not petting her as much as she thinks I should. Normally she likes to curl up on my hip, but with my back problems she hasn’t been able to. Instead, she’s taken to lying on my chest. It’s her version of cuddling, and honestly, I’ll take it.
Joe
The Closet Professor 