The Marriage of Heaven and Hell
I've instituted Daily Acts of Rebellion to stay sane at work. They are harmless but, upon completion, leave an odd sense of satisfaction lingering in my belly. Yesterday I stole a roll of toilet paper. It's almost too bad the tampons are free or I'd have been able to derive some small pleasure from ripping them off.
Today's Daily Act of Rebellion: Speaking at normal volume. Fuck this whispering shit. I just said "Hi" in my normal speaking voice and I think a few of the people made of stone actually cracked.
My mom had a Wait-that-couldn't-happen-to-you-could-it moment in regards to roller derby last night. But her fears were quickly suppressed when I explained that the emotional wounds I suffer every second I'm in this cubicle are far more likely to land me in the hospital than having the shit beat out of me on skates is. In my family, marriages and work, no matter how unbearable, are things you endure for a lifetime.
I learned well. Half of it at least.
She also wanted to talk about my siblings (a subject that enrages me and that she knows enrages me) so I said I had to go. Which was the truth. A small birthday celebration was brewing without me and I was trying to force my hair to recuperate after a two-hour nap so I could attend. It was my second nap of the day--earlier, I was in The Wellness Room sleeping so deeply that when the drawstrings around the hood of my sweatshirt got caught between the wall and the bed and started constricting around my neck, I went right on sleeping, dreaming that Mysterioso was finally living out his fantasy of strangling me.
Today's Daily Act of Rebellion: Speaking at normal volume. Fuck this whispering shit. I just said "Hi" in my normal speaking voice and I think a few of the people made of stone actually cracked.
My mom had a Wait-that-couldn't-happen-to-you-could-it moment in regards to roller derby last night. But her fears were quickly suppressed when I explained that the emotional wounds I suffer every second I'm in this cubicle are far more likely to land me in the hospital than having the shit beat out of me on skates is. In my family, marriages and work, no matter how unbearable, are things you endure for a lifetime.
I learned well. Half of it at least.
She also wanted to talk about my siblings (a subject that enrages me and that she knows enrages me) so I said I had to go. Which was the truth. A small birthday celebration was brewing without me and I was trying to force my hair to recuperate after a two-hour nap so I could attend. It was my second nap of the day--earlier, I was in The Wellness Room sleeping so deeply that when the drawstrings around the hood of my sweatshirt got caught between the wall and the bed and started constricting around my neck, I went right on sleeping, dreaming that Mysterioso was finally living out his fantasy of strangling me.