Salva Nos

I need to get a few words down before another distraction plants itself in my brain and I’m off to look at more Mediaeval Baebes videos or turn back on the Twitter.

Much better day.  Still fraught with issues due to my being gone yesterday and yet, I’m okay.  It’s a strange power trip that they have no idea what I was doing on my day off.  I only told them that I got things done which is true.  I don’t *have* to tell them anything and they make their own assumptions about me anyway.  Though, they tease me about it in a nice way and my completely guileless boss manages to embarrass me as well about my big ol’ pimple which makeup didn’t cover the whole day – calling it my devil horn.  All you can do with him is be equally guileless and say “Only on one side.”  Smile and own it.

Other notes from the day:

One volunteer is suddenly, within the last six months, losing her faculties.  At least that is the appearance from the outside.  She still dresses like someone my age despite being in her late eighties.  She has bright red hair that is suddenly a hazy cloud around her head, her eyeliner well below her waterlines, so that looks sad and clownish.  She’s had some sort of mouth surgery, though that was many months ago, and now she sounds more and more like Elmer Fudd.  You can’t laugh, even if on the surface it’s funny as hell, because she has no idea this is going on.  She doesn’t know that I know she’s on food stamps which means nothing in and of itself, beyond how she talks about her life as if got more than enough to cover her every whim.  In and out she flies for a few hours, disrupting every thing I’m doing, but she’s old…what do you want?  I don’t know.  I appreciate her help, I listen to her talk, I paddle like hell once she goes with her gagging perfume trail behind her to catch up.

The other volunteer in today – a man in his late sixties – colored in his eyebrows for no apparent reason.  No one could figure out what the hell was going on there, though the other staff people came into my office and couldn’t breathe for laughing about it.

There was a big snafu (seemingly), but luckily, it was easily rectified and all in all…I didn’t feel devastated that I made the big mistake of not coming in.  I just needed to not be there and have my psychic showdown and the relief I feel now, sitting in my room and contemplating the light dinner I may or may not have, a nice bath, and a big breakfast tomorrow for work, is palpable.

So what now?  Now, I do my best to do well.  Lose weight.  Reread some entries.  Take care of myself.  I see how important and vital and easily swept aside (even when you think you’re being nice to yourself by ignoring your own suffering) that minding what I actually need is.   We risk everything by not listening to ourselves when we say that we’re overloaded, when we feel unattractive and unwanted, when we feel that sort of soul thirst.  We ignore that at our peril.