I am being entertained by Ms. Tabi Cat. Her brother sits quietly by my side...oop, that's changed: now he's found his own amusement. I am a lucky girl to have these two critters with me. We have similar stories, they and I--but they are my family now, and our own story is unfolding.
I am contemplative tonight--having zero energy to muster more than that...and even that is taxing what little brain space I have. Luckily (let this not be the ill-fated jinxing), the darned possum hasn't made an appearance for the past week. (I credit Domovoi for his assistance in this regard--we seem to have reached a truce) Well, if she has, appeared that is, I've not been disturbed. While she is a beautiful and glistening, absolutely HUGE creature of perfection, I would like to see her dead--or at least gone. Don't get me wrong: I don't hate possum. In fact, I am an animal lover of all types. What I don't like is someone trying to dig grubs from between the floor boards of my termite-ridden rental house while I'm attempting to enjoy the luxury of the 3 or 4 hours' sleep I try to squeeze in every night. Two weeks ago, I swear I was going to have to put a bullet through my head to get some rest. If it wasn't some client calling me, it was AT&T letting me know at some god-awful time (Greenwich mean time--of course, it's Greenwich mean time...I mean, why WOULDN'T it be Greenwich mean time with which AT&T synchs?) that one of my clients who happens to be slumbering away in his own bed, has a problem with a T-1 circuit that his employees aren't using. Why? Because they're asleep--f**king AT&T and their f**king Greenwich mean time! Geez...Well, between phone companies, foreign drug dealers trying to pedal their hydrocodone and viagra, or 24-hour clients who think I need to know that their speed dial button isn't working, but don't worry, it's not an emergency, and that damned, but oh-so-determined possum, my precious 3 hours was chopped up into 20 minute increments. What I can say, however, is that the world is very disorted during the subsequent daylight hours. I'm not nearly so easily upset, for I can barely stay awake--how can I be upset? It doesn't do so well for my migraines, though, and that's too bad--no, that just plain sucks, truth be told.
I have this sense of urgency that nags at me each night. I just HAVE to find a way out of the mess I've made. I don't have to live this way, don't want to either, so what is the pay off? Why do I insist on making everything difficult? It would be one thing if I created drama and then swooped in like Wonder Woman in her invisible plane to save the day--but I only make excuses as to why I should be pitied and admired at once. It's all crap frankly. I am no hero. I am not exactly sure what I am--but of that I am sure: I am no hero. But I am tired of this same old dance. Hell, I already know the steps--can do them forward and back--oh, self--get it together. Let us learn a new way to move.
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