(I’m traveling this week, with limited access and desire to visit the Internet, but while I’m on an adventure, I’m rewinding the blog to showcase some older posts.  So don’t freak out if you see some older post about being pregnant or whatever because giiiiiiirl I am not pregnant.)

“Hey, you.  This is awkward.  Voicemail.  I hate voicemail.  But I haven’t heard from you in a while … almost like 30 years now, actually. How the hell have you been?  It’s been busy over here – a lot has happened since second grade.  I finished elementary school.  I learned how to tap dance but the whole baseball thing never really worked out.  Graduated high school, graduated college … I got married!  I have a kid – she’s almost six.  I have another one on the way.  There’s been a lot.  A lot has happened.

I know you’re in there.  Mostly because the other stuff you’re supposed to be doing, with all the enzymes and all that stuff, is still happening so I know you’re alive.  Just not doing the insulin thing.

But that’s cool.  I used to be angry about it, but I’m kind of over it.  Maybe not over it, but I’m apathetic.  Like I don’t care that you aren’t answering my calls these days – I don’t really want to talk-talk to you, but sometimes I would just like to say hi, punch you in your non-face face, and then move on.

But that’s not an option.  All I can do it keep going.  Keep checking blood sugars and taking insulin and doing the diabetes thing.  Working.  Growing this new kid as best I can and taking care of my daughter, too.  Doing the life thing.  Holding up my end of that bargain, at least.

I’m kind of glad you didn’t answer.  I don’t even know if you’ll listen to this, and I don’t really care if you do.  That apathy thing; It felt good to say hi.  And that I don’t mind you being gone.  I miss you – I’m fucking frustrated without you sometimes – but I don’t need you.

Okay, I feel better.  Sorry for leaving this on your voicemail.  See ya.”

“Hey again.  Sorry – one last thing.  I’m done saving all your fucking mail, by the way. Who gets that many catalogs?  And you owe the endocrinologist like a million dollars.  Might want to follow up on some of those bills.  Alright – see  ya.”