Inside The Whirlwind
I felt the difference when I woke up this morning. I was restless and couldn’t wait to get outside. The good weather helps. But all I seem to be able to do is go around in circles: I’ve started several projects, gotten distracted and then gone off and done something else. At least I got one plant repotted and the soil in the front yard planter turned over so I can grow something in there when it’s actually warm enough.
Thoughts are racing. I don’t like it because it means that things aren’t quite right. Just in the space of a few seconds I thought about how pissed I am that my busted-ass toe still hurts and why it hasn’t healed after over a month in this stupid ortho shoe. I guess I expect too much from my late-middle-aged body, but DAMN I hate still limping around five weeks after the accident. Can you believe that the people in the car I bumped actually filed a “bodily injury” claim against my insurance? Neither car had a scratch, I hurt my toe only because I jammed on the brakes so hard and the impact bent my toe back way too far. Yet THEY’RE claiming injury, so now MY insurance rates are going to go up. I think it’s because I have insurance and they don’t. I should have turned them in when I saw their insurance was expired, but of course I always expect not to get screwed so I didn’t. Stupid me.
I thought about how bad I still want to get rid of all my extraneous crap, but I’m afraid to get started throwing stuff because I won’t stop, and then Will would be upset with me. He thinks I push myself too hard when I have a day like this when I feel so good physically that I want to do everything at once. But I couldn’t get myself organized, so I went out to the back yard and found the bark coming off the rounds of firewood we have back there and played with that for a little bit. Who knew that trees peel like onions?
Then I sat down on the porch with my iPod and rocked out for awhile. Had a great discussion with a ladybug that was crawling around on the porch and then realized that I was talking to a fucking LADYBUG. I’m glad they live in my garden, but chatting with one was kinda over the top and I made myself shut up. I thought about how much I wish I could go back to the nursing home where I worked before, because they have a care manager position open and I at least know THAT job. But I can’t imagine any cirucmstances which would make that happen, so I had to fuhgeddaboudit and move on to the next thought, which was studying my wrists and wondering how people can stand to cut themselves there. Or anywhere else. I understand wanting to end pain, but causing oneself pain in the process of doing so just doesn’t make any sense to me. Not that I want to end anything now, anyway…..it was just a stray thought that comes up once in a while, unbidden.
So now I’m here at the computer, trying to capture the thoughts and only being able to hang onto a few because I have more piling on top of them that seem to think they need to be thought all at once. I don’t know how people can think so much and accomplish so little. Even this post is nothing more than a batch of brain-farts hooked together in no meaningful way. And I suppose somebody’s bound to worry, but there’s really nothing to worry about—my mind’s just doing one of its little whirlwind things is all, and I know how to make it stop that shit. I just wonder where I put the damn Zyprexa after the last time I used it…..?