I am completely riddled with allergies, or I have a cold. I think it’s a combination of allergies and exhaustion from the near all-nighter we pulled on Friday when Athena got skunked outside our house. I can’t..shake the smell memory. I hope she can.
I wonder if I’m on an upward path or a downwards spiral. One bad day can make it seem like an endless downturn. One glistening day can make me feel as strong, needed, loved and capable as I like to imagine I could be. Or maybe I already am.
I hear near silence and the sound of the whirring fan blades. I hear this weird “Doll Parts” song. I hear Athena’s soft sigh as she sleeps on the blanketed couch and dreams about what I hope is not skunks.
I see to the left – the whirring fan blades, the dog in a sunbeam, the allergen-laden forest. To the front – this here computer screen. To the right – a camera bag, a staircase, a ladder and an oil diffuser.
I want to narrow down my bra-buying decisions today and pull the trigger. To feel heard and desired, instead of foggy and foggier. To go on a long road trip. To feel less imbalanced about money. To go and get some cheddar pretzel sandwiches.
I am still reeling in the allergies. Missing my kids and the weekend. Wishing it had been a better one anyway, or maybe a less skunky one. We were on a good streak for awhile, and maybe we can get it back soon.
I pretend I don’t care, even though I do. I can feel it in my bones and through my skin. Sometimes I pretend I do care when I don’t. And that I feel fine, even when I don’t (like now). And that it’s ok that I come last even when I shouldn’t.
I feel nervous butterflies, like there’s something I am meant to do, or I’m forgetting I have to do, or maybe I shouldn’t do, or maybe it’s for a really good reason that just hasn’t revealed itself AT ALL on this Monday morning?
I touch the smooth mouse and clackety keyboard keys. The smooth water bottle to my right and the iced coffee to my left. I touch hearts, I hope, even though sometimes it feels like I can’t even touch one, especially my own.
I worry about natural disasters and Lyme disease and mosquitoes taking over the world. About global warming and first grade class assignments and another winter ever setting foot near me. About nervous stomachs and nervous marriages and not IF my kids are happy, but if we can have them stay that way forever. About money, and more money and that I have food allergies, diabetes, cancer or colitis – even though I’ve never had a single symptom of any. I worry about money when I don’t have it and I worry when I do because it’s not enough. Worrying is in my bones and through my skin and I’m not sure how to stop.
I cry not nearly enough and not about the right things. It’s hot button issues of family and death and weakness and feeling defensive but why wouldn’t you feel defensive sometimes, because why on earth wouldn’t you DEFEND?
I am getting up to get fresh tissues every five minutes. This is BS. Flonase, why have you forsaken me?
I understand piece by piece, not to use the word “crazy” to describe people. I think we all have our quirks, our neuroses, or our bouts with mental illness, no matter how small or large. I’m learning to understand the struggles of many and to stay as diplomatic and supportive as I can. I understand that I need to open my mind more and more because so many great things happen with even the smallest mind openings.
I say that I love it here, but I can’t imagine growing old here. I say I want to leave, but I can’t imagine ever leaving here. Calgon, take me away and get me a house on both coasts, please!
I dream about a house on both coasts, and a stronger world, a stronger summer, a stronger family and a stronger me.
I try to fight these little battles every day.
I hope that it’s working and that you notice.
I am over it. The school year. I am completely ready for summer.