Once upon a time

 Aunt Piera made it so far, and was sent home last weekend. I spent the last two weekends at my parents' place, as Mom (the Panther) really needed some rest and someone to step up on her behalf.

I was VERY happy to see Aunt back, although I must admit she is so much more fragile (I know it sounds absurd as you will tell me the woman was 94 even before her heart attack, but trust me - she was not fragile). It's not just a psychological matter: she cannot hurry or make efforts as she gets angina if she does. On Saturday night, after she spent the day at my parents' place (she had had her third covid shot in the morning) I was walking her to the car as she wanted me to drive her home, and she missed a step. I was kinda expecting this, as my Grandma (her sister) always misses the same step, so I was holding her and she did not fall at all, but she got a bit scared and she immediately had a bit of angina.

Meanwhile Grandmother is less and less lucid and aware - most of the time it's like she'd rather be left alone than having someone talking with her. While I try and understand this, it is very hard for her sister (Aunt P) and her daughter (my Mom).

On Sunday morning Aunt P came over for lunch, and we talked a bit just the two of us, about how much she still misses her husband (who passed 30 years ago), and how they always cared for each other. They started dating when she was 15 and he was 16, and not one year later he went rogue as his older brothers were called to war and they all ran away, so they all spent 2 years in the mountains as partisans. They were not driven by high ideologies, politics, or anything really, except for one strong drive: staying alive. --he would write postcards to his young fiancée, and sometimes she would hike up the mountain to bring him a basket of food.

Later on, while I was driving back to the city, I thought about how skinny and unhappy I was in all those years back from when B left me, until I started dating Husband. How I felt alone, lonely, and how I had gotten used to being sad and hurting.

And yet, Husband deserves more - he started dating a skinny girl, married a normal one, and now has a fat wife.

And I deserve more.

So it's probably time I do something about this - after all, I'll never go back to running again, so it's time to restrict.

Nikita

This is the story of someone who almost always (some exceptions, granted) put her job ahead of everything else, including dieting.

How did this happen?

At school I was not exactly a teachers' pet. I was a rebel, I would only study/paid attention to classes I cared for, and those were few. Neither was I good at studying I'm afraid, although I found out this only once in university.

Then, university was almost over and I needed money. In this country, you don't have student loans. My parents were no longer paying the bills (mind you, I think that was fair), and I needed a salary - desperately. Rent and groceries were not coming for free.

I had a couple internship gigs, and then I was hired by the company I currently work for.
I do financial due diligence - basically, when you want to buy a company, you come to see me. You pay my firm a fee, and I'll dig through all the financials of the company you want to buy and outline all issues/hidden gems.

This job I started and 22 and I sometimes feel it has eaten away my life.
Back in the 90's there was a TV show called Nikita (yes, there was a remake about 8/10 years ago).
The original Nikita looked a bit like me, only, she looked very deep while when I gaze like that I just look like an idiot. Anyways, that show reflected the total lack of control I had over my life since I started this job.

From the very beginning, I was cautioned to find something else as this job was unsustainable (for a woman especially of course they thought and said). This I could not do.
Since then, I changed employers often (eventually returning to the origins), I vanished in another country for year, I changed email so often, lost touch with almost everyone. But I have many friends working with me.
Although sometimes I look around: there were 90 in my team at the beginning of the year, and only 56 are left, but we must go on - meeting the goals is my prison.

And when I think the wind is blowing, freedom (partnership) will soon come - I suddenly remember the goals will be even harder.

We are so fucking crazy that in some countries we call each project a "special mission". How much Nikita does that sound to you?

Les Allemands etaint chez moi, ils me dirent: Resigne toi! mais je n'ais pas peur. J'ai repris mon arme
J'ai changé 100 fois de nom, j'ai perdu femme et enfant, mais j'ais tant d'amis: j'ai la France entière...