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I'm beginning to think that I'll look back on 2020 as the year I walked aimlessly and meditatively through a cemetery. It does help one gain perspective...also seems a fitting metaphor for dealing with death. And that is what is happening - the world as I know it is dying, and shifting, and being reborn. But it's hard to be hopeful right now. The picture above kind of illustrates how I'm feeling at the moment. Why use words when a picture can say it all?
Crazy Workplace
I called Chidi today. Chidi is from Alabama, he's about twenty-eight, and looks like the kid of Omar Epps and William Jackson Harper. Asked how he was doing. About the same as I'm doing - it turns out. Neither of us have braved the wilds. He was going to protest last night - but ran into family issues. Basically his mother - from Alabama made him promise her that he wouldn't do it. It's kind of dangerous to protest. Although, I told him that if he wanted to do it - last night was the night for it. It was relatively peaceful last night - nothing happened. I think the worst - was the police blocked off a bunch of protestors on the Williamsburg Bridge, their legislative representative rushed out to see what was happening and discovered that the Brooklyn end of the bridge was open. (I found this out on Twitter - then jumped off Twitter - too many insane conservatives that I felt an overwhelming desire to throttle.)
During the Staff Meeting, Boss decided to bring just a tad of levity to the proceedings...
( Read more... )
It's stormy. Storms rolling in from the Midwest. The sky is constantly shifting. We had a rainstorm at 1 PM, then pristine blue sky, barely a cloud up until roughly 7pm, when the storm clouds rolled back in. The stormy unsettled weather makes me itchy, like I want to jump out of my skin.
Also, work, as I informed my mother in our daily phone chats - which keep us both sane, I think, or at the very least from worrying about each other - is exhausting. I'm tired by 3pm and can barely focus. ( Read more... )
Mother: Are you exhausted because of the tedium of the tasks or something else? Such as writing up mods, analyzing numbers, issuing them, asking people for stuff, waiting on it..
ME: Pretty much the tedium...and yeah that.
Mother: At least you are a really good writer and like doing it.
ME: True. But...there are days...
Walks help.
New York vs. well everything?
I'm beginning to feel sorry for the Governor. He looks tired and battle-worn, but then aren't we all? ( Read more... )
Frigging hell, whoever thought a simple New Year's Resolution - To Be Kind, would be so hard to keep? I keep wanting to throttle people. It's exhausting. Not the throttling, the repressing the need to do so.
I'm depressed. This feels futile. Like we're trying to defeat an insurmountable foe that refuses to listen to anything but the sound of its own voice. And no matter what I do, I feel like I'm just continuing to bash my fists against that same stone wall.
So...
I Walk Through a Cemetery
I decided to forgo the bible study tonight. Didn't really feel like looking at my fat ugly mug on Zoom or anyone else's. Or trying to discuss the bible.
I needed trees, graves, and quiet. Some people carry phones and listen to music wandering about the Cemetery, I prefer to listen to the sounds around me. The twittering of birds. (There are parakeets in the cemetery by the way - it's the only place I've seen them. Don't blame them. If I were a parakeet, I'd go there too.) The breeze whispering through the trees. Sometimes loud, sometimes soft. Right now in my apartment, I'm listening to the grumbling of the sky and the pattering of rain - the storm has arrived apparently.
The Cemetery was peaceful. My mind began to clear. I saw very few people.
Mostly I was alone. Just me, the graves, the trees, and the birds, and a couple of flowering brush.
Surrounded by death - it helped to block out the noise. And there's a lot of noise at the moment. A lot of shouting. Screaming really. So loud, it's hard to think. Or see clearly. I'm constantly being told what to do - but I don't see a lot of "Doing" so much as telling. It's like being in that area of a book where you want to shout at the damn writer to stop telling and start showing?
I'm considering donating to Jaime Harris' campaign against Lindsey Graham, an old racist fart who needs to go. My mother already has - she's in South Carolina, Graham is her representative and he's failing her. Or Amy McGrath's in Kentucky. Also boycotting all the advertisers of Fox News.
And any firm that donated to a Republican Campaign. I don't know if it will work though.
I'm tired. I hurt. Today, I could barely breath through the mask. It was hot, and humid outside, and the mask clung to my lips and nostrils. When I hit the Cemetery and no people in sight, I pushed it down and took in the nice crisp clean air - that smelled of freshly cut grass. Everything smells of freshly cut grass at the moment - I think too many people are mowing their yards. I may have to switch masks to the buffer one, it's thinner and easier to breath through. This one - made me feel like I was inhaling cloth.
Also, I'm beginning to wonder why I'm bothering? While most folks do wear them, there are those who can't be bothered. Not many but they are there.
I want this to be over. I want to go back to my life, such as it was, and I want to fix my life - do things differently, although I know I won't. So many of our choices are predetermined by things that are simply outside of our control - or so I think, as I ponder which path to take in a winding cemetery of graves and trees and freshly mowed grass.
