Thursday, February 21, 2008

Wallowing


Some days you just wallow. Like a pig will do in the slops.
I am wallowing despite two amazing celestial events in the last 24 hours: last night's lunar eclipse and today's letting loose of the blessed rain from the sky.
I wallowed through the Tallahassee Democrat this morning whose front page headline promised me that "Mental Patients Break Out," and discovered, upon reading the article that the two patients who "broke out" only made it as far as the roof of the building.
I wallowed even though one of my daughters came out to go shopping with me in Monticello and we went to the new Mexican import shop and then to lunch where we had a fine meal made from fresh and wholesome, local and organic ingredients and the two ladies who own and run the place smiled so pretty the rain almost couldn't bring itself to wet the pavement in front of their cafe.
I quite literally wallowed out into the garden where I should have been wearing my thigh-high rubber boots (if I had any) and picked cabbages and greens to send home with my daughter.
I wallowed into dry clothes and wallowed into a nap.
I am wallowing now.
It is a day in which to wallow.
I am cold and damp and wallowing in my inability to do anything of any importance. To make up my mind about what to do with the rest of my life. I almost applied for a job yesterday online that I got a notice about in the mail, as did every other registered nurse in the tri-county area which would have involved having to know a lot about Medicaid, which believe me, no one does. I know this because I had to help Lynn apply for it when she was ill.
I almost applied today for a job at TMH, despite the fact that I've had no working experience as a nurse for eighteen years and I hate hospitals so much that even driving past one makes me wish I was Catholic so I could cross myself with authority.
And I am wallowing with self-loathing that my little dislikes and prejudices are preventing me from getting out into the world and doing something of importance which would bring in some money. And there is plenty of self-loathing left to wallow in concerning the book I'm working on which is NOT going well and I am wallowing in grief that the book I wrote years ago and which I loved has probably been thrown away by my so-called agent and I'm wallowing in the fact that I don't have the gumption to call the woman and say, "Dude! What up?"
I know what's up and she's not a dude so what's the point?" I ask, as I wallow.
I am wallowing through reading god is not Great: How Religion Poisons Everything by Christopher Hitchens and feeling a little sorry for god or God but that makes me feel ridiculous because, well, dude. Or Dude.
I am wallowing despite the fact that I am probably one of the ten luckiest women on earth and all my children are alive and well and I live in my dream house and it's paid for and it's raining, raining! I tell you and the potatoes are in the ground and the dogwoods are swelling even though it's cold and the azaleas are coming out and the birds are ignoring the rain and cold and eating the seed we've set out for them and my husband's on his way home and I have cabbage from our garden to cook tonight in a stir-fry with shrimp we will eat on brown noodles, dripping with soy sauce and with red peppers the way I like it, sitting in our cozy house.
Tomorrow I won't wallow. I promise.
I will change out of my pig costume, climb out of the slops and turn back into a human again.
I am almost certain.

7 comments:

  1. It's Christopher Hitchens' fault. Blame all the wallowing on him then go find a black church in
    Tally and listen to them praise that non-god (or non-God) to the Heavens and see which makes you feel better. But don't be Catholic. You'll just feel even guiltier for your wallowing. Christopher Hitchens is just too smart for his own good and whenever I read him, I want to say, Well, huh? You think so? I am not a fan of Mother Teresa, either, but I prefer not to THINK about her, you know? But wait! If you think about her,then you'll realize that you and your kids and potatoes are doing more good for this Universe than she ever did, going around taking advantage of the poorest and illest of the poor and ill to grab souls for the Vatican. Oh, did you get me started??? ;)

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  2. Nah, it's not Christopher Hitchen's fault. I mean, really- you got to love a guy that'll take on MOTHER TERESA, for Christ's sake. FREAKING Mother Teresa!
    Bless HIS heart.
    And somehow I can't see that my potatoes are doing the universe that much good, but I appreciate your saying so.

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  3. When you're down, you're down...

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  4. Just wondering - Do you really HAVE to decide what you're going to do for the rest of your life right now (or would avoiding making a decision be considered more 'wallowing?').
    You're growing your own food in February, for crying out loud, that has to count for something, even in north Florida - that can't possibly be considered 'wallowing.'
    You may want to practice filling out job applications and submitting them. I think most people looking for a job have to apply to several dozen places before then get an interview, let alone a job offer.

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  5. I think that when the right job comes along, they will be begging you to take it. At least that's a good way to approach it.

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  6. A job? what the hell do you want a job for? I prescribe wine.

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  7. Oh, Juancho. Unfortunately, I am allergic to wine. Fortunately, beer and rum and vodka are my friends.
    MOB- you're right. I need practice. My resume is a huge joke. HUGE. Well, actually, a tiny joke. Tiny.
    Lopo- love the new picture!

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