Tuesday, February 24, 2009

stream of semi-consciousness

There is too much cancer in my family. That’s all I can say about that. I talk a lot and love to share personal information (too much), but really, mostly I can’t talk about my dad with anyone but my husband and my sister. It’s just too scary to talk about it with anyone else because then you have to contend with their reactions and I’m also all sorts of awkward when people try to give me sympathy. Basically, I am an emotional fuckwit when it comes to this particular situation. I’m on auto-pilot and I haven’t really let my guard down about it yet. I’m dreading the day the guard comes down. Perhaps this weekend, when we’re in Minnesota with my family. However, he’s an emotional fuckwit as well. Apple does not fall far from the tree. Also, he’s the one who taught me that crying is weak and one should not do it. Good lesson dad. Really, I’d rather cry than be all percolating with under-the-surface emotion that is sure to be released at a very inopportune time. I’m looking at rush hour or work-related meeting.

Ugly intro paragraph, that.

There’s a black squirrel in the tree outside my office window, and I’m wondering if it’s naturally black or just so dirty from living in the city that it’s colored black. I remember the pigeons in the Tube in London and how several of them were so dirty, and many were also missing feet from being run over by the subway. That always freaked me out. These poor little amputated British pigeons.

Who’s in an uplifting mood today? (rhetorical, don’t answer that)

I think I would be feeling more upbeat today if I had slept a sufficient amount last night. We didn’t go to be until later than usual because of the never ending bathroom remodel. Brett is remarkable in his abilities, because there is now a shower where there was not but a few days ago. He is a saint for doing the lion’s share of it. I bop in and throw down a little paint, or sweep up some dust on occasion, but mostly it’s his show. He’s a good man. Let that be shouted from the roof tops!

Also, let it be shouted that today is a grand day because it is an excuse to eat something deliciously Cajun, and also listen to our President eloquently tell Congress to stop fucking shit up and get with the program. I love him, he makes swoon a bit. Quite a change from that other guy.

And, have you noticed that the light is different now? It’s spring time light. It stays around longer and seems brighter. Probably because it is. Thanks for the never ending ride, rotation of the planet; you sure keep things interesting and desperate come February. Maybe you could just move a little faster for a while. I’m sure no bad would come of that.

Back to work. Hi ho, hi ho.


Pickles and Dimes said...

I'm emotionally awkward too, so I'll just say this: I'm sorry about your dad.

On our honeymoon, there was a black squirrel that hung around our cabin. Jason named him Oilcan.

Also, February is like that mean little kid who nobody likes. Because it's a jerkneck.

Tess said...

I don't have anything particular to say, other than that the tone of this post really resonates.

I'm sorry too.

Jess said...

Man. I'm sorry this is happening.

amber said...

Oooh, I get it. I'm totally the cranky toddler when I don't sleep enough.

I've never thought of birds without feet before. How sad.

I hope your day goes much better, sending positive vibes (whatever the hell that means, right?) in your direction.

amber said...

I understand emotional awkwardness. My family is the same way. We shuffle our feet and refuse to make eye contact all while talking in voices much to bright when the circumstances suck ass.

I hope things improve for you, and your family.