When you spend eight hours in the sun…your brain, or perhaps mine and mine alone, spatters out my ears and leaves me in a rare state wherein it’s nearly 11 p.m. and I am still eating my tortellini dinner and praising myself for having been wise enough to put a water bottle in the freezer.
It also took me three tries to write water bottle. Wotter ba…watter b…
I could bitch further about how today went – in essence, I was tossed back into the Festival fire that I used to reign over, that I was the secret shadow broker of, that I slaved over, only now I am a peon who has no power and not even the distraction of attendees at her booth to make it better.
But mostly, after coming home half baked into my own shorts and hungry and exhausted and livid because of ten kinds of energy rushing through me and none of it caffeine or food or the seductive power of a random cute boy, I laid in bed with the fan on me intending to get food. Or intending to fall asleep. Or intending to resolve some aspect of self against the waves of an uncaring line of fate. None of that happened. I just laid there. Inert. Fuzz. Phoneless.
And now, I don’t care. It’s forgotten. There’s so many other things to do and bitching about that changes nothing and it’s a whole year until this comes up again and I knew in advance that it would be how it was and it was.
So onward and upward.
A list of positivity – because there’s no way to break away to add onto my short story and have it not all need to be erased. So. Things that are fun to think about instead:
- My dad talking about travel. That warms my heart. It’s all about getting my mom through this and then, then they’ll go somewhere. Even if it doesn’t require a passport – it’s a vacation for them that isn’t to the farm might just give them joy and perspective and all the wonderful things travel has done for me. I will have to quiz him more about this tomorrow when we go over there for the birthday and the odd choice of coconut cake.
- Good news on my mom’s cancer front. I hate writing it like that, like I’m sounding a little trumpet, when we could all be fucking smacked in the face with our optimism, but hell…if we’re gonna get smacked we might as well be smiling when it happens. So, there’s still more testing at the end of the month, but the bone healing drug drip went well and the doctors seem to think it’s not growing, maybe not shrinking yet, but not growing. I know just that much.
- New podcasts, new books, putting the makeup on one’s face and feeling it actually improve you, that necklace, cleaning up the messes, sleeping deeply and stretching your legs, feeling full, the last three words.