My eyes are heavy, puffy, watery—like I’m up way past my bedtime but still going back for seconds. I probably have pink eye. Or allergies. Considering Evelyn is just getting over pink eye and I pride myself on not having allergies, odds are it’s pink eye.
The last time I had it, I was 23 and had just returned from a month-long trip to Costa Rica. I remember being more concerned about the fact that I couldn’t swallow properly for over a week. The doctor shook his head and read my chart: “Pink eye, strep throat, and mono.” The good ol’ trifecta.
I’d spent that New Year’s Eve sick, overheated in an uncomfortable twin bed, listening to the sounds of four-wheelers outside and a TV playing a “Best Of” recap of the year. I remember feeling nostalgic and far from home, but still oddly connected—like the TV gave me a glimpse of community. I wonder if that’s how the military copes during long deployments: music and shows that bring home a little closer.
My eyes today feel just like that—droopy, heavy-lidded, and strange. It’s messing with my mood. I’m not actually sad or overly tired, but the weight and wateriness of my eyes are tricking my body into thinking I’m grieving or ready for a nap. Like a cartoon version of Droopy Dog.
With just over two weeks until our Aruba trip, I’m starting to feel curious and excited. I’m most looking forward to experiencing a new place, new people, new food, and a different rhythm of life. The main language spoken there is Papiamento, an Afro-Portuguese creole rooted heavily in Spanish. I’m hoping I can say more than just hola and adiós—maybe even a solid “Me gustaría un vaso de agua con hielo.”
(Back from checking on Archie.)
He was whining and yelping, pacing at the door like a bucking bronco after hearing coyotes on a kill call. I won’t dare let him out—those wily beasts are no joke. He’s settled down now since they’ve gone quiet, but he’s still perched like an eagle, eyes locked on the door. He’s a dang good watchdog.
Anyway, I hope you had a good one.
Take care, and thanks for stopping by.
Love,
Jaclynn
Going On 40 