In short: she needed to get a real life – now ….because the one she kept chasing after was dumb. With a capital “B.”
I cannot seem to
that holds me
I spend some ridiculous amount of my life waiting. Waiting in lines. Waiting in rooms (built just for that, no less). Waiting on the phone. Waiting for the oven to warm up. Waiting for my children to come to their own conclusions. Waiting and waiting and trying not to be impatient about it.
Another insane portion of my time is spent in transit: on my way to some other place – to work, to home, to the next meeting, to pick up my children, to run errands of all kinds. Transitioning from one home to the next, one life to another. Traversing familiar paths and trying hard not to scurry toward the destination – but mostly with my brain off and my heart closed.
So, can someone just wake me when I finally arrive and things begin to actually happen. ? Because this is really wearing me down.
She walked into the company’s new hip “lab” and identified herself as a “group head” to the “corporate occupier” and in response to the question about whether she was just “orbiting,” she asked about where she could “dock” and work.
Oh dear: just interpreting the lingo made her tired – and the common language at work had stopped making sense to her from a business perspective and instead carried for her other meanings, sometimes political or scientific – and occasionally sexual. It was all very confusing.
She kept expecting George Orwell to appear around a corner, scribbling it all down furiously for some long awaited sequel to Animal Farm.
Her daughter asked for the world.
Because she sometimes wanted the world too, she came home with an atlas and laid it out on the table for them to explore together.
The daughter dutifully reported that a partial solar eclipse would be occurring soon. But the mother didn’t need to wait to see it, as there was a solar eclipse occurring almost daily now – a big black splotch between her mind and the rest of the world, stirring up all the boogeymen resting in the shadows of her thoughts.
He is an eye doctor. And everything seems to be going just fine.
Except about 15 minutes into it, she arrives at a snap judgment:
A former superficial hippie musician turned shallow by wealth and vanity.
And about 30 minutes into it, he tells her that his daughter begs him to spank her vagina.
And then he asks to touch her eyeballs, a slight pleading to his voice.
She squirms her way out of the dark room and onto the bright sidewalk.
She blinks away the memory and gets in her car.
She didn’t really need new eyeglasses anyway. She can see things quite clearly.
I wake to the
soft haze of morning
She woke up and her brain was on fire – it was strange mostly because nothing had changed. Everything was the same. She had never thought that familiarity could ignite her but here she was on a brisk October morning with her mind flush and hot from … consistency. Weird.
The more she thought about it, the more she came to the same place: she had a certain weakness for hapless souls. And they seemed to know exactly how to find her and latch on, like a pestilent sticky burr caught on her favorite fuzzy socks.