I'm having a real hard time with this one, y'all, which is not very enlightened of me and not very easy to admit but I am. My dreams continue to be of chaos and clutter, of anxiety and trying to drive over bridges that go straight up into the sky while I cannot truly see over the dashboard which is sort of funny and sort of terrifying, all at the same time.
This morning I put my arms around myself and realized that I wished someone were here to hug me. Just take me in their arms and hold me because sometimes the most primal thing is the thing we need the most. But of course Mr. Moon is at work and all Maurice wants to do is bite my hand and then run out to watch the chickens which is obviously her version of Cat TV and she can do that for hours. She may even think she is part of the flock. I have no idea. I can't begin to understand how a cat's mind works.
So yesterday when I stopped by the post office I retrieved a small package from my box. I knew that our Beloved Ms. Bastard was sending me something for my birthday and I didn't open it and this morning I e-mailed her that I thought I'd gotten her present and she told me to OPEN IT! and so I did and here's what she sent me.
Part of me wants to just get in the goddam car and drive off and see where the road takes me, wearing my new T-shirt and a long, petticoated black skirt, all my silver bracelets and my most dangling silver earrings, stopping off at dives and taco joints, sketchy-looking motels on the beach with rattly air conditioners, rusted screens and broken locks on the doors, casting caution and common sense and responsibility to the winds but oh Lord. You know I won't do that. Who would feed the chickens? Who would watch the boys? Who would pick the tomatoes and who would make the cornbread to go with the pot of pinto beans I've already started for tonight's supper?
And besides, wherever I went, there I'd be as the stupid saying goes and I'd still be turning sixty which is still ten or eleven years younger than Keith Richards and if he can still rock it, well, I guess I can still live it.
Thanks, Sher, my love. This shirt rocks my world and you know me so well.
Happy Monday, y'all.