Finally Making it

28 July 22

And here we are.  And we’re doing it.  This is what doing it looks like.  Two pretty dicey months into this adventure, I am finally doing it.  I am sitting at a restaurant on a dock at the port in Sorrento eating octopus salad and sipping a European-style daiquiri.  It’s way more tart and less sweet than the American version.  I have to say, I much prefer this version.  

I’m watching the boats come and go, families enjoying their holidays from various countries, travelers lugging baggage down the rough cobblestone pier en masse as each ferry arrives, and I. am. here.

Workaholic Self still feeds Fear Monster multiple times daily, and the two companions are never completely silent.  But for the moment, they are at least a little muted, grudgingly admitting the cliffs surrounding the bay are pretty cool.  And the idea of finding a ticket for one of the various boat tours is not entirely off-putting either.  For today, this one moment, having less things is a blessing. 

I’m still recovering from the effects of COVID, of course.  The congestion has been mostly gone for days, but somehow my voice still sounds congested even to my own ears.  The fatigue is very real and very frustrating.  Because I feel better, I expect to be better.  But exhaustion leaps from the shadows, completely unprovoked, without warning, and attacks with startling ferocity.

I had to bow out of the boat trip to Capri today.  Yet another casualty on a long list of missed excursions.  I’ve begun to joke with myself that COVID has been the very best remedy to my insomnia I’ve ever found.  COVID knocks me out in ways no amount of meditation, breathing or relaxation exercises, or even melatonin ever could.  No moderation for this chick, no, ma’am.  I’m either never asleep or always asleep.  Too bad I can’t bottle this shit up and use it to my advantage when the insomnia is at its worst.

So I guess it’s a no on the boat ride, as my eyes and body get heavier.  I’ll go back up to my lovely apartment overlooking the bay, close all of the windows, and nap in the cool of the air conditioning for a few hours before making my next attempt at an outing, maybe go for a swim or make another attempt at climbing the notorious hundreds of steps up the cliff face.  Yes, I’m aware that second one is maybe a little less advisable given my current fatigue battle.  But anyone who knows me is aware just how ruthlessly I drive myself, so climbing the cliffs of Sorrento while recovering from COVID can become just one more of those “you did what?!” stories I tell here or on my deathbed or both.  Add it right under once ran a race on two broken legs or once worked so far past the point of exhaustion I actually fell asleep while walking.

Regardless, the air is warm, the vibe is good.  And I finally have an “I told you so” for my Workaholic Self, who has been ruthlessly at me since the beginning of this thing.  I told you things would be okay.  I only need to know one day at a time.  Everything beyond is only an illusion anyway.

And today, right now, right here, things are pretty okay.