Life As performance Art 11

It's been a gentle re-entry into my work, since returning from Monteverde. I have had more than the average number of client cancellations, all of which I still get paid for. I am still short on hours, but I have managed to save a lot over the last year and from my travel expenses in order to invest in my living expenses for the next few weeks while my bank balance has time to regenerate. I am taking advantage of this quiet time to walk more, work more on art and writing projects, for prayer and reflective thought. I am also surprised, pleasantly, how unscathed I seem to be from this past difficult week. There have been none, so far absolutely none, of the usual PTSD red flags and I am beginning to believe that I am experiencing a full recovery, though I do remain vigilant. Life has many ways of pulling an ambush, and I am too old and wise now not to know this. I am sleeping well. Better, actually. Eating well, maybe a little too well. I am getting out every day to walk and enjoy the fresh air. I am seeing people, in touch with friends. I am doing lots of good art. Writing too, as you are currently reading, Gentle Reader. No depression, no sadness and doing well as I return to work. And thanks to my Skype friend in Colombia, I still get to speak tons of Spanish twice a week while helping him with English. We are having here rather a chilly and rainy April, but so full of flowers and new leaves and birdsong. I am glad to be home, though I still think daily of Monteverde and the people I know there. Even though I feel well, it is premature to say that I'm well, hence this desire to take full advantage of every opportunity to rest and enjoy life. I am listening rather too much to CBC, and right now they are interviewing a particularly odious professional pothead known to be a spoiled whiner prone to little meltdowns when he doesn't get his way, and this all has to do with the coming 4-20 pot protest that occurs every April 20. I will not dignify the event with further comment. Coming back to noise is always an issue. The elephant upstairs was rampaging across my ceiling on the weekend. I suspect she goes through manic episodes. The police, fire and ambulance sirens are every bit as intolerable. The drugged out knuckle draggers in the building, Granville Residence, next door, are still making earplugs a necessity. and there are the chronic coughers. It is a sad irony that most of the people who still smoke are those who can least afford to buy cigarettes and their incessant coughing can be maddening, whether from across the hall or from Granville Residence, I also needed earplugs in Costa Rica. Hotel walls are often thin and other guests can be insensitive morons, and often are. So, it isn't that bad. I am still having a fairly good time.