St. Patrick’s Day will never be the same for me.
It’s not like I roam the streets of Boston half-drunk or anything, quite the contrary: I deliberately avoid the nightlife scene on March 17th. When you work in higher education and your school just happens to be one of the few not on Spring Break, it’s not a night that you look forward to anyway, especially when you’re on call (like I am again this year).
It’s the day after, March 18th. D-Day. Diagnosis Day.
This Friday will be two years since I was diagnosed with premature ovarian failure*.
Last year, I took the day off to relax and celebrate myself; it was pretty glorious. After the last month of truly upsetting anti-choice legislation and more recent legislative news making me physically ill, plus the near incomprehensible scale of tragedy in Japan over the weekend… I’m thinking of doing the same again this year to celebrate? Commemorate? Remember? I’m not sure of the right verb here.
I will be spending the morning getting my car inspected and ready to turn back in as my lease ends in two weeks. But I’ve taken the day off from work again, like last year. I swear my coworkers must think I take the day off as hangover relief from the night before.
I still haven’t planned out the rest of the day. I think it’s important that I acknowledge and do something for myself. With work and personal life as crazy as it’s been recently, I haven’t set aside any time to myself to plan my day. (I also haven’t given myself the proper mental space to really reflect on it being two years now.) I’ll be free after 1pm at the latest once my car is all done, but hopefully earlier.
It’s Shabbos that evening, so perhaps a nice meal, and maybe actually lighting Shabbos candles for the first time in months. Or maybe a massage again. But massages aren’t cheap, so I’m looking to do something else free or low-cost.
I’m open to suggestions. Sound off in the comments.
*POF was my diagnosis at the time although the preferred nomenclature is now premature ovarian insufficiency.