Category Archives: Uncategorized
Musings from the Laundromat: Unbrushed hair and Gratitude with a Stranger edition.
I’m going to have to start coming here on Saturday’s versus my usual Sunday’s. Once again the laundromat was already a hustle and bustle of carts and clothes and people.
I woke at 7:50 and didn’t even bother to brush my hair in order to get here before the crowd – probably I should have taken that extra minute because it didn’t make a difference.
Laundry Lady has bronchitis, but she’s here. And still has a smile on her face. I’d love to know more about her. With the limited time she has to talk to me each week, it would be hard to interview her.
I also got to see Glaucoma Man. He is feeling good and received positive news about his heart.
“I was thinking about you – and here you are.” He said.
Odd isn’t it? That random people think of you.
Odd and sweet.
I have much cleaning to do today – home inspection on Tuesday. Not that my home is ever a disgrace, but I suppose I’m pulling the equivalent of a woman fixing their hair before going to a salon.
This from the woman who didn’t even brush her hair this morning.
I should have been doing that yesterday, but for some reason Turner Classic Movies sucked me in and I found myself watching movies from the 1940’s and enjoying doing nothing.
Now I’m watching people fold – thinking of all I still have to do and glancing at the timer on my dryers.
Oh, one more thing. I was outside earlier and a man I’d never met before said, “What a way to spend the morning eh?” I smiled and said, “I just think about all those who would give anything to be here. ” Then added, “Look at that view.”
And we both stood and took in the gorgeous mountain range and for that moment were united in gratitude.
Two strangers just taking in the beauty of what is around us.
“Yeah.” He said.
Yeah.
The Octopus in the room
Ok. I’m going to give this a go. I am keyboardless and, as well as my fingers fly over an actual keyboard, is how NOT well the touch screen thing works for me. I’m awful at it. Which I think is partly the reason my ‘pay as you go’ cell phone terrifies me. The whole’ touch’ ‘swipe’ thingy combined with auto-correct, back up and do it again thing is like a bizarre millennial hokey pokey.
I didn’t want to open like this, and if I had a keyboard, it would start like this:
I’m scaring my dog.
Then it would go on to say:
She sticks close by, unsure of my current mood. Or, like yesterday, sticks close, positive of it.
I was alone and having one of the worst spells I’ve had in a while. Ms. Agnostic hit her knees and prayed “PLEASE don’t let me die right now. Not today.”
My heart was acting up big time. I could barely walk Butters. I took the three steps down to our yard and though, “oh my god, I can’t do this.”
But I had to do it. She needs me.
It was a quick walk around the yard, and when I came in, I felt like calling an ambulance. My face was flushed, heart pounding, dizzy. Yeah, taking the dog out to pee.
I know the difference between a ‘spell’ and my ever-increasing anxiety attacks. This popped up in my news feed the other day and I thought, “Yes!.”
Used to be I had a few triggers. Now, I have an arsenal. The screaming from the house next door, a weird sound coming from my car, crowds … Any sort of dispute in my ear shot. Now, add changing lanes in traffic, Butters taking off and barking in the yard.
My poor nails try daily to grow, but I hinder them and their quest.
I’m alienating friends, scaring off others. The only time I feel comfortable is at work or with my son.
Even when I DO ‘reach out’ I can’t find the right words and come off as a psycho.
My sleeping pattern is off. I’ve gained weight, which, is a good thing … But, I haven’t been trying.
top all of this off with my Nannie who has been in the hospital for a while.
I feel like I don’t get to say how much she means to me, because someone might be offended.
I also feel like someone may be offended by sharing my current state of, let’s just say it … Depression.
I am still quite capable of seeing ‘good’, I just don’t feel capable of participating in it.
Poor little Christmas tree is barely ever lit. I’m not counting Christmas down in ‘how many sleeps!!’
I’m just here.
And mostly smiling all day and then scaring the dog when I sit on my bed and cry.
But I did just notice my purse looking like a weird octopus, so I still have that.
(Cartoon art credit to Hyberbole and a Half … Please don’t sue me.)
Musings from the Laundromat: Pins, Pods and Cookie Tins Edition
“Take it Easy” is playing on the laundromat radio – which is apropos considering the mini OCD tantrum I just had in my head.
I got here early today. I did not want a repeat of last week. I was rendered completely discombobulated due to my tardiness. A laundromat hobo … with my cart and belongings, constantly on the move.
Today I have my usual spot and my items are in their usual machines.
When I arrived, after saying ‘hello’ to my laundry lady, I noticed a cotton candy haired older lady in an adorable pink jacket.
At first I wanted to put her in my cotton wool lined pocket with the rest of the adorable older folk I come across.
Not just because she was sweet looking and fluffy-haired – but bonus! She also looked like Muriel from Courage the Cowardly Dog.
So I’ve got a half-smile on my face and headed toward the coffee, having claimed my spot and ready for some caffeine.
On the way back, I spotted cotton candy hair lady’s cart.
In it – this:
I’ll admit (and probably partially due to the fact that I hadn’t yet ingested any of the coffee) I didn’t notice … and only further sighed at how adorable she was and how I was definitely adding her to my ‘sweet older person memory pocket’. THEN I noticed.
“Cloth’s Pins”
CLOTH’S pins???
I shouldn’t, but I hold older people to a higher standard. I expect the older generation to at least give that little wave of thanks that has become such a dying art, when I stop in a parking lot to let them cross in front of me.
I expect the older generation to say “thank you” which, has also become a dying art, when I hold a door open for them.
I also expect, that the older generation knows how to spell.
Prude. I know. If anything, the older generation has more of an excuse – perhaps she was pulled from school during time of war to help out at home. OR, maybe she grew up in a poor household and there was no money for school clothes or books. OR, perhaps she was one of many who came from a home that did not think it was important that the girls of the house even BE educated. Anyway, I could go on ad infinitum.
Bottom line, there are plenty of reasons to blow my unreasonable expectations out of the water.
But for some reason that little container bothered me.
She used a permanent marker for crying out loud!
AND – inside of the ‘cloth’s pins’ container?
Nope.
Laundry pods. *sigh*
For some reason THAT reminded me of THIS:
Only, with her container – there was no doubt. Those colorful laundry pods had their pod faces smooshed against the plastic. Definitely laundry pods.
Then again – maybe this whole inner OCD turmoil is all for naught. What if she used to keep pins in that container for cloths? Hmmmm….
I’ll go with that, and reserve her spot in my pocket.
A Eulogy worth living
I hit an emotional bottom last night.
Just too much going on in the world.
Too much going on in my heart and head.
Too much going on in my immediate circle – people passing, friends and family being ill or broken with this and that. Plus my own recent health scare.
Miss ‘I can live alone’ also has to come to terms with the fact that, approaching 50, and having lost the one person I could imagine sitting in a rocking chair next to, that I may very well BE living alone in my ‘golden years.’
I’m scared.
They’ve recently built an ‘assisted living’ home across the street from where I work. Next door to us is the administration building. I see people bringing their elderly relatives to discuss housing – knowing once they’re there, that’s it.
They gingerly enter and I want to wrap them all up in cotton wool. The sadness on their faces – it is my undoing. But, it’s a great facility. They’ll be cared for and nourished mentally, emotionally and physically.
There’s to be no assisted living for me.
Let’s face it, I can’t even afford to procure health care right now for the issues I DO have. God forbid something catastrophic happen.
I’m scared of being alone.
I’m scared that I have no nest egg.
I’m scared to die – and, I’m scared I haven’t been ‘good enough.’
Last night I reached out – because my thoughts became very dark.
I needed to hear that I made a difference in some lives. That I was loved.
I needed it like I need oxygen.
Luckily, I’m very picky on my Facebook and so when I do reach out – or if I am a total idiot, I’m accommodated/forgiven depending on what I’ve posted.
I have wonderful friends.
I need to make a point of telling them more often!
I don’t want to eulogize loved ones when they’re gone. I think people deserve to hear how special they are and what a difference they make in my life while they’re still able to hear it.
Anyway, I needed to hear my eulogy.
Because last night, I wasn’t feeling loved.
I wasn’t feeling ‘good’.
I wasn’t feeling important.
I was feeling completely broken, beaten and hopeless.
I was feeling lost and abandoned.
I was feeling used and discarded.
I was feeling like I wanted to be – done.
Just … done.
Please know, these were just feelings … I treasure my life. But the feelings were so intense they scared me.
And so – this is why I reached out.
My post said this:
“You know how we have an impact on someone’s life and don’t even know it? I need to know it tonight. Not ‘fishing’ straight up asking, have I, and in what way, had any sort of impact in your life? I need this. I don’t need complete kudos – I just want to know – if I was in anyway ‘good’. Just trust that I’m asking for a good reason – and please don’t ask why. X”
My friends came through for me.
I was given ‘virtual’ love that I so desperately needed.
I was validated.
I was lifted.
And I was not questioned.
I was eulogized and … it made me feel alive.
I saw glimpses of myself that I forgot existed.
I remembered moments shared with far away friends that had faded from memory.
I felt warmth and love.
I felt and still feel, SUCH gratitude for the amazing people who took the time to give me their time when I truly needed it.
I am a blessed woman.
Still hurting … but not feeling so alone.
I am so glad I put my pride aside and spoke up.
Rhubarb and reaching out
I didn’t muse this weekend for three reasons.
- My atomic clock went backwards for some reason only known to it. So, while I was padding around the house preparing to shower and gathering the laundry, I thought it was a little after 7 a.m. Turns out, as my eyeballs woke up and my vision cleared that all the other clocks in my house were in disagreement with my bedroom. It was after 8.
- Because I was late to the laundromat, all the tables were taken. I did manage to find one, I placed my items atop of it and went back to my car to retrieve something. When I returned a man had decided things on a table meant nothing and he had made himself comfortable in my spot. This left me wandering aimlessly about the place, my laundry cart in tow, trying to find a place to write. I was completely displaced.
- I’m still in a funk. And I know there’s only so many posts anyone wants to read about someone else being in a funk. I don’t quite know how to describe how I feel right now. Definitely I’m not myself. Definitely I’m missing the man who only two weeks ago was still under my roof. And I’m definitely feeling like I should have pulled the whole movie moment of “NO! Don’t go. It’s a mistake and I DO love you!” Then I would have run gracefully into his arms and it would have been ‘Happily Ever After’ although, to be honest, I would probably have tripped over something or pulled a muscle with such exertion.
Some happy things about this weekend. I DID have some amazing yogurt. (Hey, if I have to pull from the smallest pleasures right now, I’m going to.) Anyway, it screamed at me from the grocery shelf with a declaration that it contained rhubarb! Rhubarb being a favorite of mine, I absolutely justified the insane cost, because I needed a treat.
I also watched a great movie, August: Osage County – which, I’m sure most of you have already seen, but it was new to me and just amazing performances.
_________________________________________________
So why must I post now?
The morning began in darkness – as our State does not observe the changing of the clocks. So, while everyone is snuggled in bed at 5 a.m., it’s 6 a.m. for me.
This morning rain fell and wind snapped and I took my hairy manatee out for a blind walk she only half heartedly agreed to participate in.
And I thought of the horrors of this weekend – and how I could only bear to watch so much coverage.
I thought of all of the people hurting and hearts that are broken today.
I thought of the state of our world and I wanted to burst.
I need you – you see.
I need you because I am hurting too.
And no, I’m not comparing my situation in any way to being a victim of a terror attack … but I’m saying – when the world and the hurt just gets too big to hold inside, well, I need YOU.
I need to write. I need to reach out and know there IS still such good.
Even when I can’t lift my head up to see it sometimes.
Debauchery Soup 