bunt sign

Monday, June 4, 2001

I thought I was having a really bad day, but by the time it was over I couldn't remember why. Physically, I feel better than I have in a month. I feel so good I almost wish I hadn't gone to the doctor and started something that I don't know how it will end. I still have pangs and twinges, but nothing I can't live with.

That's a bad attitude, I know. It's resisting the truth, and it doesn't really make sense, because in the long run I'll pay for that kind of ignorance. I need to know if there's something that can make me feel better. That's the only way I'll be able to stay active and involved in my own life.

So I'm still nervously waiting for test results. And I'm worried about what's going to happen next. And with that going on, I have a hard time thinking about mundane things like contractor's license renewals, financial statements, bid forms, unemployment hearings, workers' compensation reports, and the other things that are suddenly happening all at the same time.

Twice this morning as I was running my errands, I felt as if other drivers were trying to get me. One was driving on the wrong side of the street as I made a right turn at a blind corner. He yanked his car back to his right and yelled something at me. I yelled back, but he was long gone by then.

Then in a parking lot I turned into a lane just as a pickup was pulling out of a space against the arrows. Suddenly he was coming straight at me. I had to squeeze over to my right and let him squeeze around me. I yelled at him, too, for all the good that did. I was edgy already, and I didn't need any close calls.

I get irritated when people don't obey the simplest driving courtesies. The only way we can all move these big machines around and be sure of not running into each other is if we do it according to the rules. It's so easy to do it the right way; it can only be arrogance that causes some people to think they don't have to bother.

When I got home, I knocked a spoon off the counter, picked it up and dropped it in the sink...and broke one of my last two cereal bowls. I was about ready to start throwing things, but I got an inspiration. I put Flood by They Might Be Giants in the CD player. It brought a smile to my face almost immediately.

Once I got down to work, I didn't have time to think about all the things that were going wrong. And by the end of the day I was feeling almost normal. It felt good to cross some chores off my to-do list.

Just making the list itself is a kind of therapy, because once the necessary tasks are down in black and white, they lose some of their menace. If I stick to it, I don't see anything on the list that won't get done, eventually. That's a comfort, when the world seems to be pressing in on all sides the way it did this morning.

Some time between the time I got back from the hospital Saturday morning and the time I left for my errands today, this happened:

bashed-in mailbox

Mine was the only mailbox on the whole street that was vandalized. And I really didn't need one more aggravation today.

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Confidentially, she never called me "baby doll."
Confidentially, I never had much pride.