Tuesday, Oct. 11, 2005
The Garden Non-Angel
Okay... I'm slightly more rational now than I was last night. It doesn't make one very reasonable to be so irritated, and I was all that and more when I posted.
Poolagirl left a comment to the effect that the guy at the laundromat was an "angel moment." Not sure I'd assign that particular designation to the encounter, but there was definitely something that transpired beyond just one very pissy Radiogurl and one drunk guy on the phone. Bucket added that I'm an angel. I am most assuredly NOT. I just remember that in the Old Testament, God spoke through a jackass. I figure if he did it once, he can do it again, if this guy needed to hear something and mine was the only big mouth nearby. (And yes, I DO know the Bible. I spent umpteen years in church, just haven't been back in a while.)
I didn't post a lot of the exchange here and didn't mention some other details I'll keep to myself for the time being, until I figure out what the heck just happened and what I should do about it, if anything.
I actually feel guilty over the guy I'm supposed to see this weekend. He really seems like this sweet man, but I'm just going through the motions. There's zero connection on my part. Of course our sole contact so far has been emails, so an in-person meeting might change that. My gut instincts say otherwise. Then again, my gut instincts are sometimes way off base when it comes to matters of the heart.
(Quit laughing. Once in a while I get lucky and it's right, so the "sometimes" part is legitimate. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.)
I would like nothing better today than to go home, curl up and sleep for about a month or two. The temperature outside this morning was chilly, a low of 37 degrees just before sunrise. The temperature inside my place was 60 degrees Fahrenheit when I got up - a little cool if I were puttering around the house but PERFECT for sleeping. And I am definitely tired. The cumulative stress is getting to me lately.
The job, fortunately, is pretty darned easy this week. In fact, some days I've got a couple of hours where I really don't have anything to do (hence Diaryland entries from work.) Fridays are still well entrenched in insanity, and most days are manageable but still plenty to do.
But the boss has decided we should make the mornings predominantly no-talk, which certainly simplifies my life. I let the music run, pop on the air periodically to back-announce song titles and toss out the odd bon mot or trivia or famous birthday, while in the background I can get other things done. (Though it does help to keep track of when I flip the button to turn the automation on and off. Dead air - still the bane of the idiot deejay.)
My youngest daughter has announced that she's getting married. I don't know if it'll happen or not - she's actually a little older than I was when I got married and has been on her own for a while, but still pretty young. I haven't met her fianceé but 00 says that they already behave like married people. Long as they're both happy, more power to them.
I suppose I should go make like I'm working. I won't be starting a new diary, if I go - just retreat to my existing password-protected one on my own domain space. At this point, though, I'm just going to take a wait-and-see attitude.
I have been online for long enough to know that the folks who were brow-beating me before will move on to greener pastures if I ignore them. They're needed there, after all, since we all know it's fertilizer that makes pastures green. And these folks are full of fertilizer.
Before - After
In the grander scheme of things, no soul can truly be replaced. Each one of us has a place in the universal tapestry. We each contribute our own color and texture. When one thread is snipped too soon, it distorts all the threads around it. Other lives can unravel and tear. If the wrong thread is ripped away, the whole fabric of life becomes dangerously fragile.
- LeiLani, aka Radiogurl aka Bright Opal (1957 - )