Domesticity soothes the grand delusions of bravery we’ve entertained throughout the day.
I should be and am trying to embrace it. It keeps you small, it seems at time, to be attentive to a house and to the little things within it, but really it just keeps you the size you are. Human. Imperfect. With a safety circle around you that you call your domain. Even when people think you’re a thousand meters tall, this is where you fit. It’s impossible to be too far gone to appreciate a warm bed, that kind word, and some very limited power. Thank you, Ashleigh Brilliant.
I got a lot done today as the boss was out, though I had to confront a lot of vaguely confrontational people which is already far too much confrontation for me. Too much drama. Everyone needed to be cossetted and cooed over and I sort of gloried in my being the demi-boss. I knew the answers, I was completely Short Skirt, Long Jacket for a good stretch there. Then, we started getting the artist calls from the rejected artists wigging out because they didn’t get in and as an empath, that is the complete opposite of fun. Binary opposition of fun. You can hear the flail in their voice even as they sarcastically try and rip on the people that do get in – so often they are included in this lauded group, but just this year they don’t and suddenly the quality of the show is entirely in question. They want to just verbally wiggle their way into the show and they want me to pull a rabbit out of my hat just for them. Only, thing is? There’s no rabbits. I have had the constraints defined for me and I am just the messenger. And they get that, too. I’m just the girl at the end of the line trying to be gentle, but not understanding their position, their need. The place that they’re at with their work and their money and their lives. They just want to not risk not fighting for themselves, and I respect that. Wow, do I respect that. I end up just rambling and trying to promise them something if only just that I did hear them and I am sorry they weren’t accepted this year. I ended up rambling a lot. I’m never ready for the onslaught of these rejected egos coming at me. There’s other specifics that I don’t want to get into, but it left me pretty drained and ready, despite the enormous meal I had last night and the grotesque way I described it, for a giant pizza party.
I tell you so as to not burst with it. Instead of pizza, I am home, settled, with things getting washed, MST3K on the netflix with a PBJ sandwich, some soup and maybe some popcorn.
No craziness for me, please.