The Leaves in Illinois

I called my father towards the end of my shift volunteering today. I asked him how it was back home, if the leaves had changed yet. He said that no, they hadn’t. I told him how October didn’t feel like October this year, being stuck in Florida like I am. He sympathized with me, he’s felt stranded here on Earth ever since Mom died.

The day went by quickly enough, I cleaned the bathroom because I like to, because I think it’s nice to. I re-organized the clothes on the hangers and G and I agreed a sale was in order for the ladies’ section, considering how the inventory is full and we haven’t any more space on the floor.

When I was on the phone with my father, I had the oddest inkling to as how Winnie was. But Winnie’s been up in Heaven since autumn 2017. He was our second English Bulldog, with cream and auburn fur and bright, brown beady eyes like two chocolate truffles or a stuffed animal.

The guinea pigs moved their house again. I think Molly shuffles it around with her nose and her little paws. I’m making it to a meeting tonight. I kind of like it now, the idea of socializing and gussying up a bit. Sometimes I wear one of my many lipsticks, like tonight I might wear “Wild Saffron” or “Raisin Rage”. I’ll wear my perfume, “Vanilla Skin” by Phlur: smoky vanilla with hints of cashmere, oak, and musk.

I always end up bringing a book with me when there’s downtime. Last time I brought a Christopher Hitchens with me I find deeply engrossing. I feel a little guilty bringing another book other than the main one I’m reading, but I love to have something on me to read and the hardcover novel I’m currently enjoying is a bit big for my handbag.

My little vape shop had the two I like in stock today: “Rainbow Rain” and “Miami Mint”, the latter I always puff on because I like how smooth and spearmint-y it is. I’ll probably getting another one on Wednesday, “Sour Apple Ice” I imagine. I’m funny with those, I end up smoking up the entire apartment with it like someone on Mad Men. I used to be so against them but now they’re my favorite because of the tastes. Everything ends up killing us eventually.

I’m looking forward to my Indian dinner after the meeting. It’s become a tradition for me to come home and settle in with it and watch something like Frasier reruns or Dawson’s Creek while I unwind.

Tomorrow is my day off, I have therapy at noon. I always take the day off when I have therapy because I end up talking about the untimely death of my mother and I miss her so much my heart and soul feel heavy.

I miss her randomly throughout the day. The other night, when we closed the AA meeting with The Lord’s Prayer, I swear I felt her close by. I could feel her in something indigo or navy blue, her scarlet lipstick, the red enamel necklace she used to wear on date nights with my father, the fragrance of her. I even looked around the room for her, but couldn’t find her. She always loved that prayer.

I’m a lapsed Catholic with several family members praying I return to The Church and this time it’ll stick, but I have a hard time following the rules. But I do miss it sometimes.

It was so funny the way I wanted to ask him how Winnie was, my dad I mean. Maybe his Bulldog ghost likes to wander around little dollhouse on Pine Street, up on that hill straddling two of my favorite parks. I can’t believe the leaves haven’t changed yet up in Illinois.