Whatever happens to strike my fancy, but surely some sort of fiber content.
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| Like The Queen Whatever happens to strike my fancy, but surely some sort of fiber content. |
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0 Comments:Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom] Monday, June 20, 2005 Today’s lunar instructions are to not argue with anybody no matter how wrong they are. Somehow I am supposed to find points in common. The only people I am supposed to see all day are BD and the person who does the ultrasound. Oh. And myself. I can always find reasons to complain about BD - poor man, he’s my spouse; that category of human invented to take the brunt of another’s misery. In his case, though, I can find myriad points in common: son, puppy, rickety car, mother tongue ... you get the picture. I am dreading the ultrasound. The last time I had one was so painful - because if you have to hold a quart of water in your bladder and you already leak when you cough - you don’t need any other explanations. Just remember that the area of misery will be centered right over the original source of pain. Not a happy time. I am sure the only thing I shall have in common with the technician will be the fact that we are both carbon based ambulatory bipeds. That leaves only myself to struggle with. Me. My worst critic. My sternest task-master. The person who disses me 24/7 like a thrumming string, echoing overtones in a lute band. I’m aware enough of the absurdity of trying to be perfect that I keep a store of alternative viewpoints for difficult situations. Usually, when I feel that I am a Bad Person I can dig around in the OtherWayOfLookingAtIt closet and talk myself out of the PitOfDispair. But when you add dread to hormones and dust rhinos all along the baseboard molding, that you have looked at for 4 days and nobody else seems to see! - well - I better go check out some comedy tapes or something. I am in serious need of a new frame to put around my picture. In addition - this is really not a “sick” situation. It’s more like when I sprain my ankle. I can’t walk, but I feel okay. I can eat, especially sugar, which does nothing for the attitude, I know - but is so easy to find. I can read, but I seem to have a taste only for old favorites, nothing new. I could knit if my brain would settle down to it (and I did finish one bootie yesterday) and I know I ought to be thinking about work and deciding how best to see that Things get done that need to be done, even if I am not there to do them. So toss in a generous helping of guilt. It would be so much easier if I had a fever or was throwing up or could just drift off to sleep. The Virgoan need to be doing something productive is really a curse. I need to sign up for Indolence Acceptance lessons. So - I suppose I ought not post such cranky entries - but then - nobody has to read this stuff. In some existentialist way of looking at it - I am the sum of all that I am, right? Even the crabby parts. Okay - off to go drink water. Ugh. I wonder - will knitting the second bootie take my mind off my body? posted by Bess | 7:56 AM |
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