Brand New Pair of Roller Skates

I’ve got a brand new pair of rollerskates… and a fractured ankle to prove it!

Yep… I’m up to my arse in searing pain. Don’t know what the hell I was thinking. Just last week, my brother hyperflexed his knee while sledding with his kids. I laughed and called him a dumbass. “Isn’t it about time he acted his age?” I’d said.

I spent half the afternoon as happy as a 10-year-old with two bags of stolen candy, and I lost my head. It was that damned throw rug in the hall. It buckled and threw me head-first into the end table while mangling my ankle into a throbbing mass of pain. I have a goose egg the size of a baseball — and now I can’t walk without crutches.

I guess I’d been meaning to relax for a few days… and thanks to the doctor who prescribed some very lovely meds for the pain — I will!

God bless the folks, eh? Drove an hour in the freezing cold to pick me up and take me to the hospital, sat with me for seven (7!!!) hours in the ER waiting room, took me to get my meds, and picked up dinner for me on the way home.

Strange to be in so much pain — and feel so blessed — all at the same time.

Peace, Love & Happiness ~

In Every Dream, A Heartache

I’ve said it before, but recent circumstances have forced me to restate:

The problem with my life is not that I never get what I want.  I, most times, get what I want.  The problem lies within the fact that what I want is rarely what I thought it would be.

My life still borders on bizarre.  I spend my days in bed.  I spend my nights pacing the floors, watching videos, spinning disc after disc, stroking cats’ tummies, trying to make sense of all the loose ends and entanglements.

I no longer have the means to chemically induce sleep, so I never went to bed last night.  That’s what happens when the price of coffee is less than beer.

At morning’s light, I peeked out my window to find the sky a furious and glistening winter white.  Miniature crystals clinging to the windowsill until swept away by unseen hands.  I hate being cold, but I don’t have to get out if I don’t want to.  Standing underneath my ceiling heat vent, window blinds parted, it all looks… quite beautiful.  From a distance… doesn’t everything… hold its beauty admirably?

Partly out of amusement, and partly out of  compassion, I’ve been feeding a few stray cats and a flock of birds out on my front porch.  The porch is now covered in bird shit & frosted with snow, but I know the little guys won’t starve.  And it’s good for the karma.

All in all, I always knew I wanted a life less ordinary.  Wish granted.

I’d been wanting to take an extended vacation.  Wish granted.

I’ve been meaning to lose a few pounds.  Wish granted.

Maybe I should be more specific in my requests of the universe… and a little more careful what I wish for?

Playing Pop Psychology With Sharks

I thought I was going for a job interview yesterday. That’s what they called me for. However, after completing a typing test (only 60 WPM this time…), I was thrust into a pool with three sharks.

The panel was impervious to my discomfort at their round-about personal pop psychology questions, such as:
1. How would you say you handle stress?
2. What do you feel is your greatest weakness?
3. Would you consider yourself energetic?
4. How would you react if someone yelled at you?
5. Would you say you have an agressive personality?
6. What is your favorite book? (WTF does that have to do with the price of oranges in Florida? I was sorely tempted to answer “Le Marque Du Sade”)
7. Is there anything that would prevent you from travelling? (They’re trying to figure out if I have children…)
8. Do you have any mental handicaps that would prevent you from working full time? (Again – WTF?)

What’s next? How do you feel about your mother? Did you have a happy childhood?

The interview ended when one of the HR trolls offered me an “ice breaker” — which consisted of a sheet of paper with “hidden squares” on it. Um… I played that IQ game in, like, third grade. I know there aren’t just 16 squares. I knew that when I was 8 years old. It doesn’t prove anything.

Anyway, I discovered that what these sharks do is sue people (on the behalf of hospitals and clinics) who can’t afford to pay their medical bills. As if being sick and dying isn’t bad enough…

I’m not certain I’d take this position — if it were offered to me on a gilded platter. And I’m pretty sure it won’t be.

Oy… I’m back to the job agency tomorrow. Those bastards are pretty slimy, too, but I need to eat. Wish me better luck next time, eh? Or, better yet — wish me the courage to follow my heart & pursue a job I actually want.

Peace, Love & Happiness ~