No artist is pleased. There is no satisfaction at anytime.
There is only a queer, divine dissatisfaction,
a blessed unrest keeps us marching and makes us more alive than others.
-- Martha Graham to Agnes De Mille
Was || Will Be || Past Moments || Now || Notes

2001-10-25 - 12:20 a.m.

Half a conversation, and then randomness, and imperfect meditation, and at the end of it all...think of walruses and smile

So I got home about a half-hour ago after pretty much moving non-stop since like 3:00. I wrote a quick summation of my afternoon/evening activities in an email to my pen pal. So instead of re-hashing that here, I'm just going to add a few points that I forgot as if you had heard the whole thing. (I know I said I was going to bed, but as soon as I started moving in that direction, I woke right back up. Insomnia's heading me off at the pass tonight.)

I you can make any sense of what I'm saying, you're smarter than I thought you were.

Dinner was at a place called Joe's Crab Shack. It was all these gaudy, kitchy lights and garage-sale decor. They had about a million disco lights going, and with the state of my eyes, I spent the first twenty minutes hiding behind my menu. One of BigSis' presents was a book on how different Myers-Briggs types interact with each other and deal with relationships. What it had to say about my type (INFP) in dating was so very, very dead on. Frightening. Maybe it's not all head-shrinking mumbo-jumbo.

The reason that Mom is a hazard is that she refuses to believe that I can actually follow her unless I'm *right behind her*. Seriously, I let two cars get between us (because she turned into oncoming traffic, and I chose *not* to tempt death) and so she makes a random turn onto a side street until I'm behind her, then flips a bitch with no turn signal, and then turns back into oncoming traffic. Hello? Next time I'll just tell her I know how to get there myself, even if I don't.

So whenever I'm over at Mom's house, just as I'm walking out the door, she comes up with "just one more thing" that she needs my help with. Usually these are on the order of steam-cleaning the carpets, or moving her bowling ball collection, re-shingling the roof. Tonight it was moving the patio furniture into the garage. We moved the bench together, and I thought she was going to die. The thing weighs maybe fifteen or twenty pounds. I mean, nothing. She was all pant-y and wobbly carrying her half. I so worry about her these days. She has gotten so weak. She's waaaaay overweight (she weighs as much as I do, and I have at least five inches on her). Her cholesterol still isn't coming down much, and her idea of "eating better" is like to buy the reduced fat sour cream to slather all over everything. She's just not taking very good care of herself. I don't know how I managed to get as much food awareness as I have, with her influence in my life. She's been yo-yo dieting as long as I can remember. Ugh. Enough of that. There was a table to move too, but I just moved it myself, hoisting the thing up over my head. I couldn't stand to see her try to lift part of it.

Okay, rewind. Last night I tried to meditate before going to bed. I got a yoga meditations cd from that website where I got my Pilates tape (and BigSis' present, a "Pamper Yourself Bath Basket" or some such thing, which she loved, thankyouverymuch). So the first one on the cd is called "Letting Go and Completing Your Day". You're supposed to review the events of the day, and look at your emotions regarding the day, and release all your negativity, and not judge yourself and be all relaxed and happy and "I'm a better person for recognizing and appreciating the uniqueness of this day" about it. Didn't really work for me. I reviewed the events of the day, and got tense about work, and then mad at myself for judging, and not releasing the emotions, and then I was mad for being mad, and then I'd missed what the hell she was saying, so then I tried to rewind, but I couldn't find the right button cause it was dark, so I figured screw it, and by then I was all stressed and worked up. Track 3 is called "Restful and Rejuvenating Sleep". Maybe I'll do better with that one.

And now I don't even remember if I'm talking about stuff I've mentioned before, or to whom, or why.

But now I'm getting sleepy again. So I'm going to bed.

Have a good day tomorrow, you crazy kids. And when you're feeling down, just think of walruses.

And smile.

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