it's the most wonde...no, it it the most BUSY time of the year
so angela and morbid's christmas gift has been riding around in the car with me to various destinations for almost two weeks now. every time i think i am going to have time between appointments with families, i end up having no time at all. it was either: stand in line at the post office for the 20 minutes i MIGHT have to stand there to finally get up to the counter just as the guy puts the "closed" sign out, or...eat lunch (the only meal i might get to eat in 12 hours)...or...beat ass to get to my next appointment/thing/gathering. mostly the third option won out, out of necessity. work has been of the "fits and starts" variety. on the road all day, or sitting twiddling my thumbs and taking power naps. families are INSANE this time of year. cancelling at the last minute...having a bunch of family members present...kids unfocused and going crazy scrounging under the tree and not lsitening at all. it's been rather insane, and so have i.
not to mention having to attend to friends' crises and needs, which is fine and what i would prefer to do, but at this time of year, it really gets nuts. so angela and morbid: your christmas/ yule gifts have been all over maine, and could probably have the luggage tags to prove it if i had a minute to stand still and put them on.
today, the family i was supposed to be interviewing cancelled out last night at 7:00 pm. so i got to catch up on paperwork, reports, and take a nap for about 20 minutes WHILE eating dessert. yeah, i'm a little tired.
christmas was good, i was a good hostess considering my Monthly Enemy had me doubled up in pain in the bathroom a few times, but no one noticed, except that i was a little dazed and confused from the massive amounts of tylenol i consumed just to keep going. things ARE getting better on that front, but it is still a struggle to predict how i am going to be and for how long, and what in god's name is going to set off the keebler elves gardening in my womb again.
i had a nightmare yesterday morning--one of those lucid, it-really-feels-like-you-are-living-it nightmares that make me sit bolt upright in bed. the whole dream was about my ex-husband trying to sweet-talk his way into my house and into my life. he was standing on the porch saying, "now, i know how you are, and i know you are going to try to lock me out..." in a very threatening but sickeningly sweet sort of way. i finally got him to go retrieve something from his pick-up truck (he never drove one in life, so i have no idea why he was driving one in the dream), and i quietly, slowly, softly locked the door behind him and stood looking out the window in terror as he stood there on the walkway, shaking his head and giving me this look (like he did in life) like he had already predicted i was the stupidest bitch on the earth and was going to lock the door even when he told me not to, and so now i was going to GET IT. i started rampaging and rummaging through the things he had already managed somehow to get inside the house...and outside, i could here him saying, "you can't lock me out...you know i'm going to get in...you know i'm going to get to you..." and when i looked out the windows again like some maniac, i couldn't see him. so i went back to rummaging around, thinking to myself, "if i can just find one clue, one thing in this mess to tell me what in the hell he wants, why he is here terrorizing me..."
i was tossing his belongings around, books about alchemy and religious icons, old shoes, torn clothing, all this weird knick-knack shit...and finally came upon a key ring. it had all these little plastic tags on it with pictures--the kind that you use at various stores to get the best prices, or discounts--except one, which was colored pink and had red letters on it which spelled out in fancy script:
"TANGERE."
and in the dream, in that moment, i became absolutely, completely terrified, because i knew from my study of Latin exactly what that word means...it is the Latin verb meaning "to touch."
and then i woke up, terrified, telling myself over and over: "he's dead, he can't touch you, he can't get to you, he's dead, he's dead!"
i fucken hate dreams like that. they make me wonder if he has somehow emerged from that putrid, dark and musty little cocoon he's been holed up in since he offed himself, and how he did that...and where the hell was shannon, my guardian angel, when i needed him--what, was he off having a sandwich or something? i've been somewhat perturbed with shannon ever since, and very weirded out by the dream. gotta do some work around that...
see you next year!
not to mention having to attend to friends' crises and needs, which is fine and what i would prefer to do, but at this time of year, it really gets nuts. so angela and morbid: your christmas/ yule gifts have been all over maine, and could probably have the luggage tags to prove it if i had a minute to stand still and put them on.
today, the family i was supposed to be interviewing cancelled out last night at 7:00 pm. so i got to catch up on paperwork, reports, and take a nap for about 20 minutes WHILE eating dessert. yeah, i'm a little tired.
christmas was good, i was a good hostess considering my Monthly Enemy had me doubled up in pain in the bathroom a few times, but no one noticed, except that i was a little dazed and confused from the massive amounts of tylenol i consumed just to keep going. things ARE getting better on that front, but it is still a struggle to predict how i am going to be and for how long, and what in god's name is going to set off the keebler elves gardening in my womb again.
i had a nightmare yesterday morning--one of those lucid, it-really-feels-like-you-are-living-it nightmares that make me sit bolt upright in bed. the whole dream was about my ex-husband trying to sweet-talk his way into my house and into my life. he was standing on the porch saying, "now, i know how you are, and i know you are going to try to lock me out..." in a very threatening but sickeningly sweet sort of way. i finally got him to go retrieve something from his pick-up truck (he never drove one in life, so i have no idea why he was driving one in the dream), and i quietly, slowly, softly locked the door behind him and stood looking out the window in terror as he stood there on the walkway, shaking his head and giving me this look (like he did in life) like he had already predicted i was the stupidest bitch on the earth and was going to lock the door even when he told me not to, and so now i was going to GET IT. i started rampaging and rummaging through the things he had already managed somehow to get inside the house...and outside, i could here him saying, "you can't lock me out...you know i'm going to get in...you know i'm going to get to you..." and when i looked out the windows again like some maniac, i couldn't see him. so i went back to rummaging around, thinking to myself, "if i can just find one clue, one thing in this mess to tell me what in the hell he wants, why he is here terrorizing me..."
i was tossing his belongings around, books about alchemy and religious icons, old shoes, torn clothing, all this weird knick-knack shit...and finally came upon a key ring. it had all these little plastic tags on it with pictures--the kind that you use at various stores to get the best prices, or discounts--except one, which was colored pink and had red letters on it which spelled out in fancy script:
"TANGERE."
and in the dream, in that moment, i became absolutely, completely terrified, because i knew from my study of Latin exactly what that word means...it is the Latin verb meaning "to touch."
and then i woke up, terrified, telling myself over and over: "he's dead, he can't touch you, he can't get to you, he's dead, he's dead!"
i fucken hate dreams like that. they make me wonder if he has somehow emerged from that putrid, dark and musty little cocoon he's been holed up in since he offed himself, and how he did that...and where the hell was shannon, my guardian angel, when i needed him--what, was he off having a sandwich or something? i've been somewhat perturbed with shannon ever since, and very weirded out by the dream. gotta do some work around that...
see you next year!