This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine...

Tuesday, December 29, 2009

Dog-gone It

And you wake up again and it's a brand new day. 

I have to make this quick because I'm essentially stealing time on the Comfort Inn and Suites computers in Seattle near the space needle.  I'm here because I just had an interview with a market research group from Portland for a temporary job conducting surveys on the ferry system.  And I'm here, writing, in this stuccoed public cubicle in a hotel full of screaming toddlers because I'm trying to derail an impending meltdown. 

After writing yesterday's post, I continued having a good day until the afternoon came and found me holed up in my dim bedroom still at the computer screen while the sun set and the blue sky darkened to navy.  At that time, cabin fever bit me in the ass and it was time anyway to prepare for a meetup.com group of other "hoodoo gurics" like myself, to learn more about the body's energy fields.  I assured Hadj that I didn't mean what I said the other day about my not being able to meet people unless alone, and yes, surely he was welcome to come with me.  So he took more charge of the directions to get us to Gig Harbor for the meet up and I got dressed after declaring my intent not to shower that day. 

Despite my stinky belly button.

Ew. 

TMI.

We got lost and some where between 4:30 pm and 6:30 pm my systems reversed themselves and sent me hurling into near total loss of faith.  In - like - everything.  In the sun and the moon and the stars and the universe I'm always professing total fealty to.  I just lost it.  I became very, on-my-knees-human, and just - I dunno - blew my wad prematurely, I guess.  And the night didn't end there.  Luckily I was wearing both a too-big knit hat and an over-sized turtle neck sweater and was able to creep my way into both so deeply that only my tear stained eyes showed.  Hadj asked if I was having a hard time looking at him, taking his cue, probably, from my fetal position and I said, "No. I'm having a hard time being visible."  And it was the truth.  Sometimes, I become so fearful and distrusting of everything that I seem to split.  I've read it as our spirits going off, until more hospitable conditions exist, perhaps.  My better part goes into hiding, but from there I can see that I'm royally fucking shit up.  And so, while I'm totally spinning into an out of control fear dive, I'm also feeling totally ashamed of my behavior.  And wish I could disappear with not so much as a *poof*  So that was yesterday. 

I managed to pull myself together though, after some bumbling jargon coming through my tears in attempt to explain my possible insanity to my poor partner.  I told him I still planned to do the seventy minutes of yoga promised earlier and was he ready goddamnit?  We did our yoga, in our cramped kitchen, which is the only room in the house with even close to enough space for both of us to be able to swan dive and fold in half.  He did a great job and I didn't even run my mouth about his alignment.  I re-grounded, opened up, felt thankful again, and remembered what grace was.  I capped my night off with the last of the fried xmas leftovers and two episodes of the guilty-pleasure show, Legend of the Seeker on hulu.com.  Good night. 

I dreamt about two folks getting married in the seventies.  One might have been cheating.  The bridesmaid dresses were lavender and taffeta.  I think the groom was trying to sleep with me - the omniscient watcher of the dream.

So why did I mention my freaking out again today?  Well, I got lost.  Not surprising if you know me at all.  I could get lost in a paper bag if you told me it was foreign.  Yes, I got lost on my way to an interview and despite leaving twenty minutes "cushion time" in my commute, I was twenty minutes late.  I tried for a time to use the teeny-tiny maps I have in my car, and thought to be doing ok, but what I didn't count on was this: Seattle is effing crazy.  And the part of Seattle I'm in, where the space needle is, whatever this neighborhood is called, was designed solely for foot traffic (see what I did there?).  Hadj says it's where the prostitutes used to hang out.  

...I am wearing heels...  Maybe I'll go try to get some business.

Anyway, lewd minute fantasies aside, the point is not just that I got lost.  That's no big deal; it's my behavior! Good goodness almighty my behavior is insane sometimes!  I called Hadj when I noticed I had only five minutes to get un-lost, parked, and in to my interview to ask him to give me a number to call and inform my interviewers of my unfortunate delay.  He gave it to me and I quickly hung up to call.  While on the phone, he texted to say he was at the ready with the address and map-quest if I wanted navigational help.  So my navigator in shining-gigabytes to the rescue, we tried to get me where I needed to be.  That's when I found out that Seattle is designed for people in galoshes and on boats or monorails only. And I began screaming about it in Hadj's ear.  I - of course - interspersed my vocal tyranny with apologies and assurances that I was only screaming near him, not at him.  After I finally found the damn Comfort Inn and Suites, where the interview was being held, I continued screaming about what a trash hole everything in the world is and why didn't I ever get that fucking pony I wanted for xmas when I was five. 

Then I couldn't find my way out of the parking garage for a spell, but at least I didn't lock my keys in the car again.  I felt like a true failure of a human being; so derailed and worn down to a nubbin of stress that I wished again for powers of evaporation.  I also worried that I'd get some kind of karmic comeuppance for my impatience and outbursting.

But now I'm done.  I'm trying to put it behind me.  I've stolen twenty thirty minutes of internet from Comfort Inn and Suites (while also plugging their name...Go Suites!) and I'm feeling ok because: mission accomplished.  Now I'm going to not to get lost on my way to a bookstore where I will bury myself so deep in self help books it'll feel like I've died and gone to where Stuart Smalley lives.  And, if I do get lost, at least I'm not late for anything.
Mistakes are a part of being human.  Appreciate your mistakes for what they are: precious life lessons that can only be learned the hard way.  Unless it's a fatal mistake, which, at least, others can learn from. - Al Franken

1 comment:

Chelsea Talks Smack said...

stinky belly button. LOL.