So glad the kids were willing to play. They’re a good lot
Dave stopped by my office to check in on me. Guess my general withdrawl from the world is noticable. The limp is not confused with swagger. A gentle invitation to connect. “Friends can be work in the short term, but it is helpful in the long run.” Words from my wise bear-friend.
Cody suggested he take me out one night this week. I just want to keep my head down. But Dave is right. I should go.
I have moments of okay, random as sunshine this seeming Spring. It’s as sporadic as the rains and my tears. Fucking hormones. I think that’s what it is. A detached self observes the insanity from some bird’s eye view.
I’ll try to remember the words, but first a comment…There really are two sets of words. There is the sense of self before the picture, and the sense of self based upon the critical eye looking at the artifact of self. These are not the same.
When I got home, the light was a soft after rain glow. I plopped down on the stoop and took the shot. Work day was done. Not yet time to get the boys. Words: island, ephemeral, okay. Then I look at the picture and see wrinkles, and the face that is not smiling is so very serious. This doesn’t look like a happy person. Those words would be pensive, concerned, tired.
Do this before I forget. Words: transitioning, beginning, rehearsing. In the car, on the way to work I go over the lines. Professing as performance: what is the point of this day? What will be the beats of the show. Where do I bring them into the ensemble?
Words: fragile, brittle, precipice. It’s a no-coffee-yet point in the day. Grabbed an apple for breakfast, fed Teo and Ripley and Noot, headed out. I took the shot as I got into the car. Didn’t really look at the shot I’m about to post.
Last night, after work I went to the grocery store. Pain shot through my leg and I fell as my calf cramped. I just sat there in the middle of the aisle breathing, waiting for my leg to uncurl. A woman asked if I was okay? “I’ll be alright. I just need to sit here a bit.” I am guessing it was not a convincing smile. Got the groceries. Got into the car. I wept.
Today is still rocky. Don’t you hate having so much feeling it leaks out?
Again the disconnect between the feeling inside and the exterior artifact of the moment. (I am just guessing).
Words: Something-that-describes-when-the-rain-stops-and-the-sun-comes-out, rock star, breathing.
Eff it. The appointment for the hair doing is in a few hours. I stop a small gaggle of students. “I’ve got an appointment,” I point to my head. “Do I chop it all off?”
The guys say, “Nooooo!” Guys seem to dig long hair. Angela says, “Give me a number between one and two.”
She looks blankly at me. I return the look. Then we start laughing because she doesn’ know what it was supposed to mean, and it doesn’t matter anyway.
Later – “Missy, I’m in a menopausal hormonal crazy. I’m ready for radical.” She talks me down. Nothing drastic. “Color?” Also, nothing too crazy because she knows I’ll regret it. (She’s awesome that way). This is what friends and good hairdressers do…they prevent you from stupidity.
See? This is me nod doing something insane, like buying a car. Or getting a buzz cut. Or becoming a platinum blonde.
Words: Pained, dull, fronting. (slang for putting up a front).
There is a definite relationship between disposition and mobility. Holding onto the walls, cruising like a toddler learning to walk. Regressing or fast forward? Maybe this is what it means when one says “It’s all downhill from here.” There was a peak, and this is that slope past it.
Riding a bike down a mountain, letting gravity do its thing, time whips by. This slope is steep. Time whips by sans the exhilaration. “F” if for front. “F” is for face. Take a pill. Ease the crash.