Dear Plinky Prompt: Did You Die?

P question (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Is Plinky dead? I have tried to get prompts but I haven’t gotten any. When I try to use the search I get the oldest ones first and there is no way to see the new ones. I’m wondering… I asked the “support group” a question a few weeks back about using images that were recently advertised ( I was shocked but thrilled) and  ( I won’t mention any names) their reply was the weakest, most uncaring, and unresponsive answer I have ever read in my life. Basically it said, “Yeah, we said it but it’s not true, that’s the way it is, we aren’t trying to fix it and no effort is being made to fix it in the future, kind of like, ever.” That was my interpretation. This is the real answer in part “I’m afraid Plinky is not being actively developed — we don’t have any plans to make improvements other than fixing critical bugs to keep the service running. I know that is not the answer that you had wanted, though it is the transparent one. ” Actually, I prefer my answer. What exactly did this mean?

I started getting suspicious at that point. Since then, no prompts. I’m just saying it would have been nice to get the obituary. Did I miss it? Did anyone else get it? Gosh, was I the only one who didn’t get it? I’m not saying I can’t live without the prompts but they were fun (although not when they were repeating them for the fourth time in a short time period.) Hey, I could think of some prompts. How much are you going to pay me? I’m sure I could come up with better ones and more original ones than the ones you used.

Now, I fully admit, my computer is wonky, so it could be just me and that it’s just my  computer problem and Plinky Prompts are going to everyone else except me. Can one of my friends let me know? That is entirely possible.  Can someone at Plinky give me an update? It would be nice to get an email or some communication letting us know if you have dropped Plinky officially or if you are on a hiatus.

Sometimes we need a push and sometimes we need a break. What up?

Sincerely,

Hibernationnow.wordpress.com

If I Could Be Two People

Image via Wikipedia

Seriously?

1) I would seriously consider asking the person that wrote this prompt, what on earth he/she was thinking?

2) Then I would ask his/ her boss the same question.

3) Then the boss and I would go to lunch together (their treat) and I would give them some really awesome prompts.

The Peace Prize

Image by doug88888 via Flickr

In the small, contained river, ringlets of water come to me, float away from me. I feel relaxed, my body is not betraying me now. There is silence in the house, just my breathing, in and out, with an occasional sigh from my contented old dog. I have spent three days and nights in bed, aching, pale, listless; every muscle and joint screaming in pain, tight as twisted steel. Now, there is a little comfort of mind and body intertwined. My music plays in the background, I’m listening to “My Immortal“; by Evanescence.  It was my grief song and at the same time my healing song. I can listen to this song now without sobbing yet nine years ago when my father died, I crawled into a ball and wept every time I heard it. Sometimes time brings just a tiny bit of healing in increments as small as cells.

Many other days I am filled with questions and complaints but today they have been momentarily swept away. I try to keep my shoulders balanced so the tightness and stiffness will stay away. I do not want to be known as Fibromyalgia Girl. I want to be known as a woman with Fibromyalgia and not have the illness define me. Same too, I do not want to be Auto-immune Girl, Hashimoto Thyrioditis’ woman, The Woman with Chronic Pain. I am still the same person inside yet with physical limitations. Please, please, remember me.

When there is a day like today when I can release the labels and just be myself it is like winning a prize; a prize of peace. It is rare but on the days it does happen I am so relaxed I yawn automatically. Treasure this, I tell myself, this moment, this second, as long as it lasts; I know that they are merely moments of reprieve but I am grateful for them.

I am clean and polished, I want to organize, slowly this time, not like the crazy rush I did five days ago, punishing myself with aching limbs and so much stiffness I could barely walk down the stairs. I clutched the hand rail for  support, for guidance, my jaws clenched, my hair pulled into an unforgiving, tight ponytail ; my body was stone and cement and there was no softness, no pull, no elasticity.

I swing my right leg, back and forth, keeping time to silent orchestration.  The world outside is bright and bitter-blue cold. I have no interest in bracing myself and stiffening my body just to go out. I rather walk slowly through the rooms of my tiny, doll-size house and get reacquainted. ‘Hello, pen,  hello, Bridget, the stuffed pink poodle, nice to see you again’. I am trying to breathe in even breaths but the more I try, the more I lose my relaxed rhythm. I decide that that’s okay; I refuse to worry.

Nothing has changed in the outside world so I know today is a gift for the internal me. I can’t make it happen anymore than I can make it stop. I am grateful for the breather, a vacation for an hour or two from body and mind.  The jack hammers are on a break, questions are still unanswered, situations will ultimately resolve themselves. I am grateful for this one moment of peace.