It's drizzling and we need the rain. The temperatures are supposed to begin dropping today, going to be in the forties after tomorrow. "With temperatures like that, you might as well move to Asheville, Mom," says Jessie. She is wearing the cutest skirt ever and her legs are fourteen feet long. She is incandescent, she doesn't walk across the floor, she dances, she floats, she shimmer-shimmy shakes. Vergil's already been for a run with Greta. Mr. Moon has gone to work.
I'm sitting here in my black overalls and a black shirt and my hips feel like fire and I am wrapped in some stupid damn hell fuck membrane of despair and I don't even know why.
We're supposed to have a girly day today. Me and my daughters and who wouldn't want to do that? I am not sure what that means but it may include buying make-up and having manicures and pedicures. I can hardly even imagine such a thing. I feel as far from a girl as it's possible to be and still remain in a female-gendered body, still identify (sort of) as female.
I don't feel as if I have a gender. I am feeling neither male nor female. I am merely feeling old.
I woke up at two-thirty in the morning. I started to think about Christmas and I began to feel all those feelings that always come up and I thought, I can't go through this again. And then I thought, I don't have to think about this now.
I feel like an unnatural being. I do not love dogs, I am neither male nor female. I hate Christmas and dread the depression which that day brings me so much that it wakes me up in October, it haunts my sleep.
Well. I will take some Ibuprofen. I will wash my hair and shave my legs. I will see my daughters and my grandsons. I will apologize all damn day for being such a black hole of negativity. I will try to remember that this is my life and it is good and I am blessed beyond all measure. I will appreciate the rain as it falls.
The camellias are budding up. I will think about that, how in a few months when winter is at its bleakest, there will be color and beauty, reds and pinks and whites.
Pink Perfection. I will think of Pink Perfection.
I will kiss my grandsons, I will listen to my daughters as they shimmer-shimmy-shake-twitter-giggle like jeweled birds, their beautiful eyes flashing.