Thursday Night
08/01/2008 03:47 a.m.

Thursday night, the dishes are done. The floors have been vacuumed. Nina caught one of the two mice still stuck in our kitchen. Meme's been showered and fed. The kids are all off becoming adults. Money's coming in tomorrow and no one is hungry. Bills have been paid. Not too much left on the "to do" list.

But I still have this itch in the back of mind, like I'm forgetting to do something. My thoughts won't slow down. I have a slight headache. My skin is crawling. Though there is an unaccounted-for quiet in the center of my being, I can't seem to reach it under all the layers of agitation.

The uppermost layer is my most recent fast food folly. Taco Bell forgot one of the items I ordered, a $1.79 burrito. I drive all the way back down (because their phone is busy for the 15 minutes I spend trying to call them) to loudly complain that for the MILLIONTH time, they've forgotten part of someone's dinner at my house, and the rest of the order is getting cold at home just so I could spend on gas what I paid for the burrito to begin with - only, when the guy says, "M'am, I'm terribly sorry, I'll get that burrito right away for you..." I'm so pissed I don't even want the burrito anymore. I don't even feel satisfied that I've finally voiced my supressed irritation (they leave out an item almost every time we order food there). No, I'm unreasonably full of rage at the rising cost of everything, and the way there is no more tolerance inside me.

I get back home to my clean house, and no one is as upset as I am, which pisses me off even more because I realize what a fool I must have just made of myself over a $1.79 burrito.

But there are other layers. And I don't mean to be so self-absorbed, because I know everyone else is dealing with their own layers. But mine are the only ones I really have to contend with...

I can't help the kids with college. I have no retirement. I have no medical insurance for myself for about the 15th year in a row now (the kids are finally covered by state-provided insurance, thank God). I am earning no money of my own. Today I rely on the kindness of others to provide for me while I care for Meme. I mean, sure, she saves about $2,000 a month having me care for her instead of being in a long-term care facility. And I'm glad to do it. I just don't like the fact that in addition to all the money I wasn't able to save while the kids were growing up, I'm still not saving any. I can't get to the dentist (what's new?) for lack of $$, and my smile has the gaps that stand for a life of living far below the poverty line.

And yet I know that, in many ways, I am "better off" than lots of folks, and I truly am very grateful. I have a roof over my head and no one is hungry. Hell, we even have cable tv and internet service! My children and my boyfriend love me very much. I have some online friends I adore. I am expecting my first grand-baby, a boy that my son will name "Atreyou" (Trey for short). My son and his wife are coming for a baby-shower that my son asked me to organize even though we haven't really communicated much for years. My basic needs are all met, and honestly I don't want for much that I can't live without. There are other family members that love and support me emotionally, and I feel very blessed by that. And even though I have some health issues, I don't feel too bad physically.

So my inner selves ride this material world teeter-totter, and it makes me nauseated. Intellectually I know that being bothered by life is only just barely useful, and only just barely under certain circumstances. Otherwise, it isn't very helpful to dwell on things that just can't be fixed, at least not in the near future. I guess I need a plan, which would have been a much more productive idea back when I was 20.

Well, I just needed to vent. It'll all be ok eventually, and life will go on whether or not I can make the needed adjustments.




I am currently Angry
I am listening to my blood pressure returning to normal