They were everywhere.
Driving her crazy.
Specific, selective pairings.
They were everywhere.
Driving her crazy.
Specific, selective pairings.
“A certain amount at times seems healthy for survival.”
“Probably not an ally in rebooting.”
Getting upset just creates more upheaval.
Fencing and chairs are placed upon the couch coverlets to keep the dogs off, which also keeps the humans off.
Well, at least I am kept off.
Piles continually accruing accumulate unrelated to any of my functioning – as do skitters of loose cat litter, floating balls of wolf fluff, muddy paw prints and human foot traffic residues from lack of entryway rugs – because if they were left on the floor, a dog or two would pee upon them.
So, instead, everything else gets spread across onto the floor – and the dogs pee and have to be cleaned up after, anyway.
Did I mention that my kitchen chairs and beautiful vintage coffee table have had their real, solid wood and filagreed beauty desecrated by unrepentent multi-gnawing?
And dust accumulates on any surface as soon as it is cleaned due to high activity passage.
And when I picked up the glass salt container today while trying to cook, some type of mysterious goo dripped from its base onto my hand from the kitchen counter.
I stopped trying to cook, covered the meat with tin foil, stuck it back into the fridge, and walked away carrying some strange supplement mixture to consume, instead of real food.
Let me tell you about the layers of pet gates to travel through – and blockades of a fan and chair to move – to get back and forth between kitchen and bedrooms.
All of this requires precision flow of movements and wrecks near every step if one has torn joints or instable limb issues.
Also, my lovely kitchen curtains got a hole chewed through them, and one day I came home to find that the youngest dog had crawled through the hole (why?!) and was standing there in one position confused until I helped him out as I tsked at him in bemused exacerbation.
(Hilarious, I know…)
Then I just completely cut the curtain – eliminating the danger and any ‘last remnants’ of my former attachment to them.
And I am still not sure where we put the missing piano chair.”
“As the captain of yet another ark filled with so many inhabitants which are now under my protection’s jurisdiction as I, myself, am required to now travel abroad to work for reparations despite my own injuries – and with very little help from anybody – I now declare this floating overflowed zone as lacking for recepetion of any company!”
Accompanying comments and explicative noises.
Counting them, one by one, to be able to perform.
Too confident from reduced inflammation’s pain caused her to miss two cycles of medication.
Allowing time and space for fragments to find her and reassemble.
Adding onto her load quickly and praying that somehow she could take on the weight.
Passions enraged if she allowed them to war wanted to scream, “How could you do this to me? After everything that we have both gone through?!”
“Blend into each other.”
“No pill.”
I remember when he got onto TV – was it with Smoky And The Bandit?
Also Kenny Rogers in The Gambler.
Oh, yeah – and John Denver with the comedian George Burns in Oh, God!
It was such a novelty in the 70’s to have real life performers show up in the movies, and I remember hoping for and getting excited for their sequels.
Back then, restrictions for showing popular talent on main TV were very uptight.
Mobilizing…
“Before (such and such extreme workout club that pushes hyper cortisol), I was tired and had very little energy…”
Insert:
“Now I’m so stressed and overperforming – I don’t know what to do!”
“I got some Draino rinsed down the tub, and now seal the bottom of my bathroom door with some cloth as a backup.”
“For your sins.”
“Anger has always been a final refuge.”
“Aching agitation.”
Her heart felt suspended in air as she briefly rested on her side without him.
She could not “afford” to become homeless.
She was getting more work, hopefully immediately, regardless of her injuries.
“Venture succesfully completed!”
“Gotta get the day goin’.”
The obvious must be made obvious.
The toe nail polish from that sacred night was beginning to flake off on its own natural course.
At least she knew that she had done what she could to preserve its memory.
“Walking around wearing ear plugs helps tone the world down.”
Unreast
Concussive “waiting,” seemingly without cause as extreme insomnia.
“Well, I didn’t get the Draino today, but I stuffed already worn shirts from the laundry basket under the bath tub room door to stop the air flow into my room tonight.
Then I left my bathroom part that was sealed off, and when I returned, I no longer smelled the hint of sewage so clearly.
Maybe I will get lucky and sleep well.”
Maybe if she got some draino?
She still could not find her pass to sleep.
Having cycled the bedroom’s air, she turned off the fan in hopes that it would reduce the toxic gas infiltration, so that she could close the door to the rest of the house’s overstim.
Opening her bedroom door to the rest of the house’s smells that were foreign to her standard of normalcy at least changed the air composition – though greatly distracting to her heightened insomniac sensitivities.
She knew that her muscles’ new pain was due to some version of this.
She couldn’t even open a window for fresh air due to others’ fireplace emissions.
Never stopped, always advanced, beyond tolerances…what exactly was the purpose?
She could smell that the sewage line was having issues, as the smell had permeated her bedroom for the last week – but she could not ask the landlord to attend to it.
How can one tell if the hull of a ship’s integrity is solid for sailing and sea worthy?
In a town once called “home,” a woman who had helped wreck another’s home let herself decline, became homeless, and slept in public drunk – and even showed up to the other woman’s place of work for services – constantly shoving into the face of the woman that she had injured how little harming another family’s stability had meant to her by her phases of self absorption.