Tuesday, March 4

Disaster. A mason guy met Andrew today to assess the retaining wall damage and my joking figure from yesterday turns out to be not a joke at all. We're going to get more estimates, but this is a huge huge huge job. The wall must be completely rebuilt, and a giant tree whose roots were partially the cause of the wall's undoing must be taken down. Homeownership. This is the absolute worst. And also the absolute worst time for this malicious, inept government to be tanking the stock market.

But. But! I have chosen peace. This is a homeownership travail, but we'll get the work done, and then the Story of the Retaining Wall will be over. My capacity for getting stressed out and upset about anything that's not, you know, SURVIVING CANCER has decreased almost to the point of extinction. I literally have one thing to worry about and focus on: becoming and remaining disease-free or -stable for many many many years. 

This is a perspective shift. I wish I could return to my previous baseline of high-strung worry over every little inconsequential thing, but that's like wishing the roots of that beautiful giant tree hadn't spent the past hundred years winding their way between the stones of that retaining wall. The damage is done. No choice but to rebuild, stronger than before.