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Who’s That Girl?

19 May

I have found myself, of late, with some extra time on my hands…actually, in my schedule.  Periodically I will have one day in the week, sometimes two back to back, where the square box on the monthly calendar is literally blank.  Now mind you, there is ALWAYS work needing to be done even when the scheduler is devoid of listed appointments.  Such as papers awaiting an organizational interlude, laundry (not just clothes, linens and towels too) in need of soap and water, walls so smudged they are doubling as finger-printing devices, dust bunnies multiplying as often as their animalia counterpart, weeds, weeds, and more weeds always awaiting their demise (though they are, more often than not, winning the battle), windows and mirrors longing, begging, aching for a nominal assertion of ‘spit and polish’, AND many more perfunctory tasks that if I don’t stop listing them now will, I fear, cause me to lose my reading audience.  For the mere listing of them will remind one, perhaps two-three-or four, readers of a mundane chore awaiting their attention as well.

Yet regardless of the ever present occupations, the ones that call to me regularly, there are days when the outside forces, which pull me from my domesticity, are quieted.  And when I come upon one such day, and in choosing to ignore the aforementioned “to do’s” , I find myself wondering…Who am I anymore?…

  • Do I still like swimming in the ocean?
  • Why am I not wanting to go rowing?
  • Why am I enjoying the quiet so much?
  • What do I ‘enjoy’ eating?
  • Do I like swimming?
  • Do I still like roller coasters?
  • Am I interested in finishing my undergraduate degree?
  • Where would I like to work if I had to go out and get a job?
  • Am I going to be able to handle old age?
  • Do I like gardening?
  • Do I still like hiking?
  • Should I keep my hair short, or grow it out long again?
  • Am I inspired?
  • If I didn’t live where I am living, where would I want to live?
  • Why am I not motivated to get my bicycle tires fixed?
  • Why do I always want to get lost in IKEA?
  • How do I avoid using words such as: so, all, got, and, but, etc.
  • When will I again be ready to read a novel, short story, or play?

The contemplations above are nothing compared to the strange phenomenon that comes over me when I spend the first part of the day piddling around the house.  The phenom being, I lose ALL motivation to leave it (it being my home).  In fact, I have had to drudge up some serious creativity just to execute a proper meal for my family–as a result of forgoing the trip to the grocery store because leaving the house was too daunting a task.  Additionally, I have had fantasies of visiting varying friends, on my ‘calendar-free’ days, only to lose the ambition when the day actually presents the opportunity.  And yes, I realize this past year has been a full spectrum run of events; but don’t you think I should be higher functioning by now?  Especially as I have been given several days of rest from time to time?  Especially as Cole is more capable and independent (in his self-care)?  Well regardless of your answer, I personally feel I should be at a higher level of energy…at the very least I desire a higher level of functionality.

Even so, with bereft vigor, I do what I must and is necessary to keep order and semblance of a productive life.  All the while unable to evade my own introspection…who’s that girl, running around with you?  And though I share my ruminations, you need not trouble yourselves in attempt to procure for me a resolution.  I assure you, I will find her.  She is not far off I think, only slightly derailed…perhaps a bit exhausted. 😉

P.s. My musings are inward focused and not to be projected, in any manner, toward any one individual outside of myself.

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Johnny and Me

15 Apr

I will not lie, Cole is a bit discouraged.  He so wants his ability to smile returned to him, even more so than his vision. And yet the facial paralysis remains.  The doctors at the neuro-acupuncture clinic have told us that this intensive, every day treatment plan, is at its max at about two weeks, because it is just too exhausting for the patient.  We are definitely here, Cole is wiped out and feeling a bit swollen in his face.  I, too, am ready to go home.  Hotel living is ok, but like my bicycle moniker ‘Dorothy’, I feel there is “no place like home”, even with our steamy latrine.  What?  I haven’t told you of our heated toilet?  And you thought the dog was the only one around here heating things up!  Not the case…

Our first night of arrival, April 1st, we unloaded (well I did) our things, and were extremely hungry.  We happened to have in our possession a gift card for the Mexican fast food chain, “Chipotle”.  And, right at our hotel lobby door happens to be a Chipotle restaurant.  I had never tried their food before but remembered my good friends, The Nances from Bakersfield, had positive things to say about it.  Cole, on the other hand,hadn’t liked his first time try, but decided to give it another go.  Anyway, Cole’s meal didn’t work out for him so well.  The meat was to spicily seasoned and he was already too tired to eat.  Mine was fine, and I ate it without a problem.  However, my stomach gurgled all night long.

Now that night we noticed our bathroom sink didn’t really have cold water, medium temp at best.  I made a mild comment about it and then forgot it quickly.  The next morning, however, Cole and I were taking turns ridding ourselves of the Chipotle from the night before (yes, even his little taster made its mark).  When it was my turn to, again, surrender to the porcelain queen, I couldn’t help notice the steam radiating from the bowl below my tushie.  I thought to myself and then proclaimed out-loud to Cole, “My gosh, that food last night is really causing some heat!”  But then it donned on me, our toilet is flushing HOT water!

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Got.

22 Mar

Today I read a vehicle license plate that asked, “Got Hope?”  And since the owner of the car was posing a random question, I in turn, felt obligated to answer.  “No, hope was yesterday.  Today I ‘got tired'”.

Yet me being who I am–a person who abhors the overuse (or use even), of  lackadaisical terms such as “got (anything)”, especially as those types of faddish word phrases somehow manage to become integrated into everyday language–proceeded to hypothetically chastise the owner of the car and his or her misuse of the English language.

So the rest of my one-woman-soliloquy went something like this:  “…Today I got tired.  But actually I don’t “got” anything because “got” is not something I “have”.  And shame on you for proselytizing incorrect use of language.  I mean really, not any of us “gots” anything!  Did you even learn the language you profess to use?”

Well my rant and rave was a little better in person, just ask Cole, he was there.  Though I don’t know he would vouch for me in the positive…he did keep mentioning something about the mental institution, but I was so distracted by gotting hope that I didn’t pay him any mind.  Or is it, I didn’t pay him no mind?  Or how about, I didn’t pay him a mind?  No, no, no.  It’s, I ain’t got no more mind!

And that folks is a ranting from one tired and cranky Rivka!!!

 

 

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