So I am quite bummed out right now. I was supposed to have my magpie tattoo finished today, but alas, it's been pushed back to next week. My tattoo artist said it wasn't quite healed enough for him to finish it today. And that if he tried, it could scar up. Well, I really don't want scarring to ruin my tattoo, so I guess I'm waiting another week. Next Wednesday. In the meantime he said to loofa the shit out of it and apply copious amounts of lotion (I've been doing lotion but not scrubbing it). So yeah, no finished tattoo for me.
On the bright side, it's 60 degrees here in Colorado today! It's gorgeous out! It's making me long for Spring time, warmer weather, and sun. I may have to sit outside and read a bit.
And on the darker side, I just got off the phone with my mom, who says she thinks she's going to die soon. Of heart failure. Because her chest hurts where her ribs were broken. One thing that you have to keep in mind is that my mom is an alcoholic. Has been one since before I was born. She denies it to this day, but it's obvious when she's been drinking. Anyway, I talked to her this morning and she was fine. Hadn't been drinking, we had a nice conversation for an hour. But then she calls me up, just a few minutes ago, crying and going on about how she thinks she's going to die and that she's going to get her will in order. Has she heard anything from a doctor? Has she even gone to a doctor? No. Her chest hurts where her ribs were broken so logically she must be dying. You have to understand that when my mom has been drinking every little thing is the end of the world. The drama never stops. She's dying, she's going to leave her husband, and on and on. It's so frustrating to deal with. And because everything is the "worst pain" or "worst experience" of her life, I don't know what's real or what's the alcohol anymore. Everything is drama. Oy. I don't know what to do. Her alcoholism is the elephant in the room that no one dares talk about. I mean, her husband has to know, right? It's a Jeckle and Hyde type of transformation - I don't know how he couldn't know. Does he just deal with it? Is he truly oblivious? I've never asked him. And my mom would deny it anyway. She could be drinking vodka from the bottle and tell you she doesn't drink. And she believes it, that's the sad part. Denial is a strong and strange thing.
Well, it was good to get that out. I'll chat with hubs about it when he gets home. I texted my brother about it as well. He said he talked to her earlier today and she seemed okay at first but then started getting all weird and feeling sorry for herself. I don't know. Let's move on.
Last week I shared the pigeon painting I did for a commission. I included this little gem for her too:
Because who doesn't love a fat little pigeon?! This little painting measures 4in X 4in. It's small. And cute. And I hope she likes it.
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