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Quiescence
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I dreamed of you last night. You, with your enigmatic half-smile and still eyes that reach out and stroke me. I tried to fall back asleep, find my way back to you, but, you had evaporated with the morning.
Meet me tonight? Any night? Every night?
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"O Wine giver, pour me a cup and pass it around
for love seemed easy at first, but later the difficulties arose."
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I watched you sleep last night, the sound of your breathing warding off the hysterical silence of night. Forgive me. Forgive me for being so young. For being this messy fool who is falling completely apart. I’m trying to pull it together. Myself. Our life. I don’t ever want you to feel this sickening sense that the ground has entirely melted away. That nothing is solid. The world is a hollow egg. I push my thumb in and it gives way, delicate lacy cracks. I want to build a nest for you. A cradle. A home. How do I do that? I’m frozen and blank. Forgive me.
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I'm going to quit my job. I'm going to quit my job. I'm going to quit my job. I'm going to quit my job. I'm going to quit my job. I'm going to quit my job. I'm going to quit my job. I'm going to quit my job. I'm going to quit my job. I'm going to quit my job. I'm going to quit my job. I'm going to quit my job. I'm going to quit my job. I'm going to quit my job. I'm going to quit my job. I'm going to quit my job. I'm going to quit my job. I'm going to quit my job. I'm going to quit my job. I'm going to quit my job. I'm going to quit my job. I'm going to quit my job. I'm going to quit my job. I'm going to quit my job. I'm going to quit my job. I'm going to quit my job. I'm going to quit my job. I'm going to quit my job. I'm going to quit my job. I'm going to quit my job. I'm going to quit my job. I'm going to quit my job.
Really.
Soon.
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I'm going a little nutty.
My life is threatening to spin wildly out of control.
I have an endless number of unanswered emails and voicemails. Technology is the suck.
My to do list is an amorphous growing blob of undoability.
- Come up with a marketing plan and info leaflet (with photos) for my parents' house by Friday.
(They just got back from hitting all the Saints, Barbados and San Juan. My mother is pouting because my dad refused to get her a $34,000 diamond. *Vomit* They have cruise NUMBER FIVE for this year in a couple of weeks.)
- "The Nun Study" and a quiz by Monday.
- FINISH PAINTING! Buy some freakin' shelves and dining chairs and appliances (including a functioning WASHER AND DRYER)!!!
- Christmas crap.
- Meet with my team. More phone calls, emails. Continue battle against da' man. Finish Ron Leaf's book before I meet him. Viva la resistance!
- Get back with Justine for training. The angel. Her brain costs $60 per hour for this but for some reason she's giving me her time for free. I've been meeting some amazing people lately, who ask that instead of saying thank you, I just follow in their footsteps. We're so short of psych majors. I'm going as fast as I can.
- The work I actually get paid for. Somehow I am catching up with this. I've decided that working from home is not as fun as advertised.
- Matty is doing fabulously, at home we're doing ABLLS, Distar (reading & writing), Spanish, and math. Next month I think we're going to start with Latin. He's HAPPY. So busy and sweet and HAPPY. His smiles are like a balm.
But, yes, I'm turning into a complete loon. (More so.) But, it feels like we're moving... forward. I just have to keep up somehow.
Ah.
I feel better.
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Becca was fired yesterday. After a mass email was sent out, informing employees that they were not allowed to wear perfume or scented body products, she sent out another mass email in addition, requesting that no one wear deodorant. Her boss took this to mean that Becca thought that she had bodily odor issues and after having a chat proceeded to send out yet another mass email, chastising Becca publicly, and informing her that her mass email privileges had been revoked. Becca came in the next day with her resignation prepared. She had also drawn a mustache on herself and stated innocently that "it doesn't go against dress wear policy." Her boss let her go and I don't think it's likely she will give a good reference. I'm so often torn between cringing when she tells me these things or applauding.
Darian stopped by the other night and got me all motivated as he always does. I’ve barely spoken to him this last year as his now pregnant girlfriend hates me. Damn jealousy. I’ve had enough of it these past months. He got his license a few days ago and is about to jump in. Matt is doing fantastically. He’s still rather new to the business and is raking in around $250K a year already. One more week. My stomach churns with fear.
Flooring to be installed next week. Bless.
I saw him yesterday. I came out of an elevator and he had stepped into one and was standing there and I stopped dead and just looked at him and mouthed hello. His hand fluttered up in some uncertain gesture and he started to say something, then the doors closed. I’m mostly fine when I just don’t see him, which I have been doing a good job of. I’ve given up almost all information to the girls so that if I fall again they will remind me of the ugliness that took place and why it’s such a bad idea, but when I see him, for a second, I forget it all and just want to be curled up against him. Then I feel sick for the rest of the day.
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A nut. This is too insane. And this time, instead of feeling horribly distraught I feel like I'm unwinding. He's had me tied up tight. To cut off the circulation you know. To my brain. Relief.
Yet I still feel tears, in the back of my eyes, pleading to be let go.
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"I grew, drenched by nature’s waters,
like a mollusk in ocean phosphor:
in me shattered brine reverberated,
and laid down my proper skeleton.
How to explain? Almost without movement
of azure and bitter breath,
one by one the waves repeated
what I gave out, and throbbed,
till brine and juice formed me:
the disdain, the desire of a wave,
the green rhythm that from the hidden bulk
lifted up a translucent edifice,
that secret, it clasped to itself, and so
I sensed that I might pulse as it did:
that my song might grow with the waters."
p.s.
"I love you as certain hidden things are loved, secretly, between night and soul."
p.p.s.
I need a vacation, and tea.
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It is the most bizarre little things that attract me to people.
Glittery, diaphanous pieces of them.
He loves the ocean.
And I am giddy.
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A day for Rumi and desperately needed rest.
"This is not a day for asking questions,
not a day on any calendar.
This day is conscious of itself.
This day is a lover, bread and gentleness,
more manifest than saying can say."
My apartment is a mess of clean laundry waiting to be put away, wooden blocks, unopened mail, paint samples, fabric swatches, unfinished sketches, pamphlets for appliances, countertops and cabinets, unread condo docs, undone homework, and a delicate tower of lincoln logs.
I feel light.
My baby is finishing dinner. I will put him to bed early (he had no nap) and then run off to sit where we usually sit and chatter with cigarettes and evil evil caffeine.
"Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing,
there is a field. I'll meet you there.
When the soul lies down in that grass,
the world is too full to talk about.
Ideas, language, even the phrase each other
doesn't make any sense."
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