Beast of Burden

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The smell of rain brings me back.  I’ve had a nervous day since the start with the unbearably tragic news out of Orlando.   I can only be heartened that the tone does feel shifted somehow, if not the final effect, that people are coming to hear the broken record within themselves and that prayers and kind sentiments are only that.  That you want this to change, you change it.  At the legislative level.  You change the core belief that the gun violence is some sort of inexorable reality.  Violence, perhaps, but if we can do something about this one particular brand of it…

There is other news.  Sunday news.   Parts of which I haven’t even processed yet.  My mother’s got to have a test on her liver on Tuesday.  It’s not routine.  Tuesday is also a dental office visit for me and they’ve hurt today.   There’s my sister asking to be repaid for things that I never asked her to repay me for…there’s waiting to be paid again and not being sure when that will happen.  The boss called and wants me to be somewhere I don’t have easy ways to get to first thing tomorrow morning.

The rest of today’s post was written in a letter.

In the corner, Le Tricolor hangs.  The banner dates from the time of the Revolution, though as with so many things here, the absence of light removes crucial details such as wear and age.

It’s going to be alright.

Staying In

Difficult day in some respects.  The sky is the color of the national mood – or at least what I hope is the national mood – gray with grief for the shooting of Congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords – and not, I pray, red for blood.
The Congresswoman, who we hope survived, and many others including a small child were killed for…what?  Politics? The madman’s single violent expression of his insanity? Every generation feels it’s on the brink of something wholly terrible, for lack of a better phrase, looking at the end times.  I don’t feel that, even in the light of this beyond tragic event, this loss of life and security, that we are collectively standing on the edge of the abyss.  But we are perhaps, orbiting, the black hole above the abyss and if we don’t fight the pull, this is a way we could get pulled in.
On to other topics, I suppose, since I don’t much beyond the news reports readily available to anyone and don’t have much to offer but my continued hope for the families of everyone impacted.
Today, along with being gray and foreshadowy, is a day to be on my own.  I’ve been trying to accomplish a few things on my list.  I’ve done the bulk of my exercise using the WiiActive, but I have a few other calories to burn off to meet the goal.  I’m doing this post, as you see here, I’ve eaten broccoli for heaven’s sake!   Broccoli.  Raw.  If this isn’t an epic show of my good faith and intention, I don’t know what is.   I have read.  I have this snippet of a story going.  I would like some help, but it looks like I might just have to take a nap and get myself going again to work on the cleaning and other organizational things I’d like to do today.  Right now, I feel very slow and still.   I’m eyeing the last sprig/stalk of broccoli and I’m pretty sure that I’m so full on my little lunch that I couldn’t get it down.
But I am considering many things.  We got the invite to our cousin’s wedding in Minneapolis/St. Paul in July.  July is the middle of the year.  It is a big goal, but just to have lost fifteen pounds by then on my small frame would make such a difference in how I experience that event.  How much less it could be about how I look and what I’m wearing and more about being happy to see her and happy to be there and free to enjoy it.  Not perceiving everything through a funhouse mirror, all fragile ego and sugar-spun moods.
Already, on this micro-micro-micro level, I feel change.  I don’t feel like doing this forever is impossible.  I almost like the restriction.  I definitely like the fact that I’m not going to spend $11.33 to have a chicken burrito bowl and chips and will turn into formaldehyde and fat around my midsection.  I like the maybe person that may be.
Back to watching the news.