This morning I awoke at 8:00, did my vitals, took my meds, and rousted my wonderful wife out of bed to indulge me for breakfast. We went for bagels. Then we came home and took a nap.

And didn’t wake back up until 12:30.

Such is the bonus of it being a holiday at my wife’s workplace, because of Independence Day on Saturday.

At some point this morning, I started having a panic attack. I don’t even remember what started it or when it was – that’s becoming more and more prevalent. I can’t remember the trigger, I think it was because we were planning to entertain later in the day and I was nervous about how the visit would go. (It wasn’t panic due to the visitor, who follows this blog, but rather the whole concept of opening our doors and being sociable.)

Before I could even start to think about it, my wife was Johnny-on-the-spot with our new weapon.

“What do you see?” she began. And like clockwork, by the time we got to the last question of the five, my panic had subsided and I was actually starting to be excited about the visit.

The visit went well, though it started to head in a direction that I couldn’t really contribute to the conversation. (The subject of fiber arts came up and while I am capable of both knitting and weaving, I tend to let my wife dominate those conversations, since she’s far more advanced in knitting, crochet, spinning, and dyeing than I am.) We even took the show on the road, grabbing a snack and then heading to the local library to see another friend (my wife’s matron of honor works as a librarian there).

When our visit ended after a nice, long time, I started in on those items on my checklist that aren’t so time-sensitive.

And then the crack outside rang like a bell.

This is a time of year that I tend to dislike, not because I’m not patriotic, but because loud noises trigger my PTSD (even though it’s not combat-related, I’m easily startled sometimes) and every Tom, Dick, and Harry has plunked down a sizable chunk of money in equal parts fireworks and beer. The two rarely are a good combination, as tomorrow night my neighbors will celebrate by lighting small explosives at random intervals throughout much of the night. It won’t surprise me in the least if the last firework goes off after midnight tomorrow.

It’s also not a favorite of our beloved cat, who really gets antsy during this time of year, and it’s all we can do to keep her calmed down during the worst of it. When the one single firecracker went off earlier tonight, the kitten jumped. I can’t imagine what it will be like for her tomorrow with everything going off all in one evening. Then again, I can imagine. I go through it too.

If I know to expect fireworks, it’s not so bad. Going to see a municipal display is fine with me, except for the part where I have to fight the crowds. I even raised money one year for my historical non-profit to put on a 20 minute long professional fireworks show, complete with custom made ground effects and shells representing our organization. I sat practically underneath them and loved the whole show.

But those random bangs and pops that go on outside my door while I’m safely inside always startle and surprise me, and while I don’t jump like the cat does, my breath always catches in my throat for just an instant every time.

Tomorrow’s going to be a long day for me. In addition to the fireworks, it’s a show night, and being “on” for three hours straight is going to be tiring.

On the plus side, it looks like we’ll be playing an online version of Cards Against Humanity during the show, so we’ll have that to distract us.

This post has been rather stream-of-consciousness. Not necessarily a bad thing. A lot of journaling is done in this manner, and as much as this is a public blog, it’s also where I go to write what’s on my mind. Some days, it’s thought-provoking. Other days, you get this mish-mash of thoughts and expressions.

I never promised I was a good writer. Just an honest one.