I got up a bit earlier this morning. I was awake, so why not. I lay there thinking I heard a tremendous cat fight in the cellar, but when I got up, I wasn't so sure about that anymore. Everyone seemed their usual selves.
It has gotten dramatically colder. We had snow flurries throughout the day. I noticed this morning there is snow up on Willard Mtn., and the lights are on. I know ski team starts in a couple of weeks on 12/1 and so they are getting ready for it.
Another day in the harness, here I go. M will be home at this time next week. That'll be nice. Work is still crazy busy, we have so much to do, and J is always saying to L, as he stands around like Lord of the Manor -- Why don't you do thus and such, Louis......
Anyway. I can already tell these 3 pages will be a long uphill haul themselves. When I walked the dogs last night, in the cold darkness, I felt all spooked and afraid again. I saw that stoned kid who always walks home around 7 and had outrageous fears of being assaulted by him. My mind can take off like a panicked horse sometimes, and despite the fact my fear was ridiculous, I didn't walk as far as I usually do. Besides the fact it was freezing.
I know I had a beautiful dream of being in incredible mountains, but I don't remember any other details. I remember going up in and going back down and out. I wake up and am immediately preoccupied by imaginary, maybe, cat fights and does Matthew want to go out yet and how long can I lie here before I truly do have to get up and pee -- and dreams dissolve like snowflakes on a warm palm. Matthew slept with us again. He is so gentle and easygoing and so happy to be allowed to stay curled up in his nest under the blankets. He doesn't move all night, very much, and he certainly doesn't walk all over me or stick his face in mine or try to dig his way under the blankets.
Pearl is back to not quite eating again. She really rallied for a couple of days and then back to this. These fish tend to be intrinsically hardy, nevertheless.
Finally got the child support check for last week from FF. I think if I get it in the mail to M today, she will have it before she comes back home. It being Wednesday. The moon was so high this morning, and looked to be at its last quarter. Or nearly.
These 3 pages feel endless this morning. I drag my mind along them, reminds me of a tractor pull, the great loads of concrete dragged along behind the tractors at the fair. That's my mind and that's my hand as I skid and scribble and scrawl, sprawl, my face in the dirt, dragged along by events, by this thing I need to do every morning and have done for so long I have almost lost track of its purpose. But no, I know it's purpose.
As I lay there earlier hearing imaginary cat fights, maybe, I also thought I heard the furnace turn on a lot. But then I thought maybe I dozed and woke to hear it, thinking it was just on, wasn't it? My mind ranges and rambles, imagining openings I am unaware of letting in the cold or the thermostat bumped by someone, something, up to 74 degrees. But no. No one here to bump it, and no breaches in my wall. Just my mind awakening and needing to worry, as it does, a habit of years, an obsolete habit born when I was a child living with crazy parents and never knowing what chaos, what terrors, would be visited upon me next. But, no more, thankfully. The shadow remains, however.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment