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Musings from the laundromat: Puzzled

It’s hot in here today – they’ve turned the A/C off and left the fans to stir the fabric softened air.  And it’s busy.  I almost didn’t come, then found $3 worth of quarters and decided to.

There’s a small child humming ‘Twinkle Twinkle Little Star’ (or maybe it’s the alphabet song?  Why DO they both have the same tune?   Who got away with that?  If Coldplay put a song out with that same tune, they’d be called out on it immediately.)

She’s skipping and spinning her arms around like a windmill.  It’s adorable in an ‘Okay, it was cute to hear the first five times, but please now teach the child to hum in tune’ sort of way.

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There is a man in a wheel chair who everyone is feeling good about being nice to.

Bras hanging shamelessly from a distant laundry cart.

Husbands and wives helping each other fold.

Chatter and the swishing sound of water and …. (It’s SO hot – regurgitated air now – it’s lost its fabric softener charm).

I love to watch people.  Such an assortment today.

Even with such a varied group, I still feel out-of-place.

Like I came from a mismatched  puzzle box – never had a chance at being a complete picture, just endless edges and corners.

Years of different clumsy thumbs (my own included) trying to press parts of me into other parts and places with no success.

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I’m the girl at the table typing away – observing.

The girl who eviscerates herself before you all – hoping to purge some of the septic thoughts I have.  Hoping to share some of the beautiful ones.

And meanwhile, there’s an old man in cowboy boots and a cowboy hat standing chewing gum in front of me.

Does he feel like a mismatched puzzle?

I think that if I knew I wasn’t the only one …

I can’t be.  But everyone else seems to be able to just get on with ‘normal’ life, whatever that is.  And when I broach the topic of this never easing darker side – I’m almost always told to look at  the lighter side.

As if I don’t.

I see a kaleidoscope of colors.  So vividly.  The darkest of dark and the most pure and bright of light.

Taking the garbage out this morning I smiled at a small rabbit in a bush nearby the dumpster.  Watched it hop away to the vacant lot when Butters announced with a bark that she had spotted it too.

Daily barrages of good and optimism and evil and pessimism fill me.  I see it.  All.

Still –

I find myself thinking more and more about just being done – dying – whoa!  It’s ok.  Those thoughts are countered by a morbid fear of dying so – no worries there.

But this is truly how I feel lately.

Like, there’s nothing more in store.  That hamster wheel mode again.  Groundhog Day.

I’m mediocre at the things I love to do.  And that’s okay I suppose.  I at least try the things I love.

Like this – this blog.  It’s been Chicken Debauchery Soup for Soul.  For me anyway.

Clearly it’s not enough though.

I don’t know how to fill the increasingly dark empty spot inside me.  I don’t know if there is enough light to capture and place there.

I’ve looked.  Under religious rocks and in spiritual crevices … philosophers, therapy, steps and meditation.  Serving others – serving humanity – having hope – trying ‘one more time’ to offer my heart.

Haven’t found it.

I have to find it though.

When I said I almost didn’t come today, it wasn’t just due to money.  I had to literally tell myself out loud to shower.  “Come on!  Shower.  Let’s do this!”

I just wanted to stay in my room.

Away from the barking dogs and crazy neighbors.  Away from the passing cars, drive by glances and endless dirt.

Just to be in my nest and … be.

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I’m becoming increasingly agoraphobic.  No joke.

This is why I share so much – maybe a part of me is afraid if I don’t get these thoughts out – I’ll be emotionally agoraphobic too.  Something needs to feel comfortable leaving the safety of my walls.  So let it be my thoughts.

Little humming child just walked by with a stuffed bunny almost bigger than her.  Both of them in pink.  Wheelchair man is reading – he is a handsome, older man. I’d love to know his story.

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The bras have been removed from the metal bar of the folding cart – the chatter has subsided  I have 13 minutes left on my dryer and then I can go home.

Lock the door and tidy up before curling up with Butters in my nest.

When I’m there – doing that – I fit.

Musing from the Laundromat: TGIN!

TGIN!

Thank god it’s November!

Here was last nights sky – full of promise and beauty – and I think  my retina is forever damaged for having looked straight at it (through glass no less) to take the picture, but it was worth it.

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October had enough ‘suck’ in it to dampen even the most optimistic of souls.

I felt bombarded by ‘suck’.

At one of my lowest points, I was even called ‘worse than the Nazis’ by a holocaust survivor.  You can’t top that. No you can’t.  I officially win the ‘most insulted’ contest in the world.

I didn’t deserve that.  But I considered the bitter, ignorant source and let it go.

Let’s do a recap.

Lost love I’d been waiting patiently and devotedly 16 months for.  Nice 3 night, 2 day visit with the man I thought I was going to be old with on a porch one day.

Got the award-winning insult from a misinformed, interfering party.

Car broke.

Car broke again.

Sons car died on me.

Had no groceries for almost two weeks due to car fix.

Ah – but good things come from bad.  I have a clean slate for November.

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The love thing – it was better I found out early on (early – lol – after 16 months) that the Prince was a Frog.

The insult – I’ve got no bright side to that, other than confirming how completely toxic the insulter actually is.

Car – it could have left me stranded in a really bad spot – but didn’t.  Both times I was able to get the car carefully home and arrange a way to get to work.

No groceries?  I survived.  All those things in the pantry I bypassed for other things?  They got the attention they deserved.  Although, it will be a while before I want to eat oatmeal or peanut butter and jelly sandwiches again.

1st world problems eh?

I’m rich with blessings still.

So I’ll shut up about October.

Let’s peek at our featured laundromat patron.

I call her ‘crossing lady’.  She sat and crossed her feet – uncrossed, lifted her legs into the air and crossed them the opposite way.  It was mesmerizing.

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Over and over – restless feet on this lovely little lady – I wonder if she used to be a dancer.

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In other news – my YouTube channel has been fun to do – but only readers of my blog are really going to find any of the entries interesting.  Or maybe not. LOL!

Much like this site of mine – I’ll eventually find my voice there too.

Why am I doing it?  Because I’m determined to get out of my anxiety shell.  Put myself out there and push the nerves down, down … to the very tips of my toes..

Speaking of getting out of my anxiety shell – I actually left the house this weekend.  I did!  I’m a hermit. I am.  I’d rather be home.  But when I DO go out, I’m the girl who strides over to a stranger with my hand out saying “Hi! I’m Amanda.”

I went to a ‘grown up’ event Halloween (good thing they didn’t want to see my ‘grown up’ membership card, because I don’t have one.)

Enjoyed sitting with friends – meeting new people and while I only stayed a couple of hours, I  was glad I did it.

So here’s to November!  May it be filled with GOOD and hope and joy.

I think if I focus on those things, its bound to be.

Check out my channel and subscribe if you’re so inclined. https://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=debauchery+soup

And here’s one from Show and Tell Tuesday.  Yeah – it’s lame.  But it is taking guts I really need to work on developing to make – so I was proud I got through it without stumbling and blushing and being incapable of speech.

Gotta love those freeze frame pictures! LOL!  Oh well.  All part of becoming more comfortable.

 

Now I shall be eating a cupcake and relaxing this beautiful Sunday – Until next time – PEACE!

 

 

Musings from the Laundromat: nothing special edition

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I’m still working on my ‘controversial’ piece – so I find myself at the laundromat with no topic today.

I have a composition notebook with pages of scribbles and thoughts, sources and notes (I will sometimes handwrite my  posts and type them out later) but have yet to complete the work.

I will confess that yesterday, with all my ‘to-do’ items staring me in the face, I ended up ‘to-do’ing nothing.  And it was delightful.

I watched the silliest thriller/horror movie – ‘The Sacrament’.  Acting was pretty good so I stuck with it, then realized 10 minutes in that it was a direct ripoff of the Jonestown events.

Even ended with the ‘Father’ (in sunglasses and with a drug habit) calling his flock to the ‘special’ punch.  *sigh*  This was after a helicopter pilot was shot and a note was passed to journalists saying ‘help us”.

How do you pass that off as an original movie?

Still, I had invested those first 10 minutes, I had to see it through.

I apply that in most all areas of my life – if I have invested time in something, I see it through.

Which means today I do the ‘to do’ items and the bath I considered giving Butters is a definite since I spilled some of my coffee on her.  In my defense, she’s known me a while and should be wary when I’m carrying ‘spillables’.

But wary she was not, and underfoot she was and so – to the tub i go after trying not to emit ‘bath time’ vibes and hauling her 70 pound wriggling manatee body into the bathroom.

I’ll set a timer for my chores – because I plan to be horizontal a lot today too – don’t want to get too carried away (like Butters will be in a few minutes).

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Musings from the Laundromat: Pigeon edition

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I do!  I do!  Before the new company opened, one of the owners and I shared a sparse room with quite a view – it was our temporary space to transition and get the new venture up and running.

It had a huge window,  and outside, was a nest.

The owner of the building had gone to great lengths to install pigeon spikes.  A deterrent that did not deter what first was a roadrunner, who had no success breeding up there – to a pigeon who did.

I watched that little guy grow a little more each day until he was practicing ‘flapping’ on the edge of the column and then one day he had left the nest

Why don’t you see them?  Because they don’t leave the nest until they’re full-grown!  The mom was still feeding her squab when he looked bigger than her – although, he still had a little tuft of yellow baby hair on his head.

Here’s a picture I didn’t take of a baby pigeon:

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Fast forward.

Okay,  so we’re in our new digs now – and everything is up and running.  The suite we vacated next door was being cleaned and prepped for new leasing.  I caught wind of the fact that the complex owners right hand man had orders to demolish the nest.

I managed to snag him for a quick chat.  “What if there is a baby up there?  She’s sitting on something again!”  The answer was distressing – it would be, um, ended.

Now, considering I took and shared those photos of the roadrunner feasting on a small bird not so many posts ago, you might think it strange that I was so bothered by this news.

That bird had no chance, already caught and nature was in session.

Deliberately climbing a ladder to kill a bird is another story  altogether.

I pleaded to no avail.

A week later I saw this and my heart sunk:

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My assumption was that they dislodged the egg.  Although, it was empty.  Which,  i didn’t notice at the time.

Another week and I see a ladder by the column.  A cleaning lady was outside – I ventured out to inspect the nest.

A baby!  The egg must have been discarded by the bird, not the right hand man.

I vented in the office – until someone came outside with me to plead my case once more.

She mentioned moving it – not killing it – but you can’t do that.  It takes the mother pigeon quite a while to recognize her baby by anything other than where she last left it.  This is true.  Move it, she won’t smell it or hear it – she’ll just think ‘where the hell did it go?  I know I left it here!’

I promised to clean the pavement until the baby could leave the nest – then remove the branches.

She was all for it – I  just hope the right hand man agrees.

 

Musings from the Laundromat: Friends & Change edition

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I’m musing on my notepad since the internet connection is not connecting at the laundromat.

I was thinking on the way over, of change.

It’s amazing sometimes isn’t it, when we look back over the years, sometimes months or even just days and think ‘If I knew then that things would be so different now …”

Then what?

Nothing, that’s what.

You’d end up changing the outcome by knowing what it was supposed to be.

That whole seeing into the future thing is not a good idea.

If you knew a job wasn’t going to work out – you might quit before learning a valuable skill you needed for later.

If you knew a relationship wasn’t going to end up being your ‘forever after’, you might abandon it before experiencing new emotions, or becoming stronger for having made mistakes.

A song was on the radio in the car and it reminded me of someone.

I think about exes from time to time – then I segue off onto wondering if I ever cross their minds.

I hope I do.

They all meant something to me and always will.

So back to change …

Since the start of the year I have now been in 3 different jobs, gone from not knowing what life would be like without the constant that is my son, to living alone lately.

The thing that hasn’t changed, and rarely does, are the friends I have.

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I was surprised to hear a friend was coming to town that I usually only see once a year, usually Christmas time.  It was literally Christmas in July to get to see her for dinner Sunday night!

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On the heels of ‘friend Sunday’ came ‘inevitable Monday’ and a pretty rough week.

Work is amazing, I love my new position.

The logo I created was delivered and stuck to our freshly painted red wall … I remember the first time I was published and seeing the paper – yeah, it was a little like that.

I’m blurring so much here – but want you to see the logo at least.  I assure you, the wall does not look like a horrid smudge of letters.

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We’re still figuring out procedures and I’m still on a crash course of figuring out how to do what I do. This I have no problem with. I adapt. I learn quickly, that was no lie on my resume.

My forte is creation. Creation, progression and completion.  Love it.

Needless to say though, even a whole day doing your favorite things can be exhausting.

I found myself coming home and sitting on the couch in a hyper-minded/numb-bodied state every evening.

On top of the exhilarating chaos that is the birth of a new company, we had ‘sabotage day’ or ‘Cablegate’ as I am thinking of it now.

Our suite connects to the old company we all worked for. It was sadly closing while we were opening. A very emotional thing to watch.

I get attached to people and routines. After 3 1/2 years, to see the people I care about slowly leaving, while an office that once thrived emptied to nothing but a shell – well, it wasn’t pleasant to say the least.

Our office parties, the holidays we shared, the smell of Thanksgiving turkey, the sounds of laughter – phones ringing, microwaves beeping, deliveries arriving – the hustle and bustle, Gone.

All gone now.

It was down to just the Broker this past week – and a trickling of agents bringing out the last of the items going with them.

One morning I arrived to the news that the keys to the mail box were missing and all the drawers had been left open.

Did I know where they were? No, I did not.

Also the internet was down.

No problem, I told the Broker  he could use our WIFI, I would give him the code.

I finally made it into our suite only to discover that our internet was not working either … nor our phones.

The utility closet that houses the cables and technical ‘things’ is located in the old office.

And it was locked.

And that key shared the key chain that had gone missing.

A locksmith was called out and after summoning the internet technicians out too, the long and short of it is that someone had come in the night and left a final ‘F-you!’ for us.  (Yes, we have a very good idea who it was – no, we have no proof)

Equipment lay on the floor of the closet and various pieces hung from the wall.  Then, discovered hidden in the ceiling, the recently cut wires that connected our suite to the outside world.

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The police were called – locks were changed and a temporary fix was made to attach cables to the frayed ends of the severed ones.

Sabotage.

A lot of talk about karma came up.  I’m of the mind that anyone angry enough or capable of such a crime already has to live with themselves.

We were back up and running and were not going to let that set-back have anymore power (or lack of) over us than it deserved.

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Friday arrived and I was ready for a relaxing weekend.

I climbed out of my car, came through my gate and opened the front door.

And was greeted by – silence.

Butters was nowhere to be seen – or heard.  And trust me, my hairy manatee is an excitable girl.  She wriggles and whines and leaps at my return.

I had locked the door so she couldn’t be out?

Then slowly, a small noise and as I set my purse down, she limped out of my bedroom.

She hadn’t eaten – hadn’t taken a drink from her water bowl.  Her tail hung between her legs and she moved gingerly.

I dropped to the floor beside her and started an examination – and to my horror, she let me.

I’ll try to describe her exuberance … I can’t get a leash on her in any time under 20 minutes.  Trying to get her to stay still for her collar after a bath is like trying to hold back a herd of children at the Disneyland gates.

And she lay there – letting me probe between her pads for burrs – press her leg to test for warmth or tender spots.

I could see nothing out of the usual.

She then left me to lay in the bathroom.  Not limping.  (Perhaps she had just been laying awkwardly on it before I got home?)  Now she was listless, shivering and unmoving.

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I checked her ears, her eyes, her gums, her stomach …  all the while wondering “What will I do? How will I afford to get her care??”  And telling her – “Don’t you leave me.”

My eyes welled with tears as I reached out to the online community for ideas.

My friend that ‘always knows when to show up’ threw some clothes on and abandoned her Friday night after her own long week, and headed over to be with us.

Butters perked up a little.

“Maybe she’s depressed.” Said my friend.

She had a point.

Life as she had known it had changed too.

From having the run of the yard all day to being shut indoors – and the absence of her boy.  Big changes for a little canine world.

Perhaps she was just depressed.

By the time my friend left, she seemed to have perked up.  I stayed up with her until after 1 a.m. to be sure.

The next morning she was herself again.

Just like that!

I quickly went to the grocery store returning with lots of dog treats – cleaned the house and just as I finished Butters barked at the front door.  (Music to my ears to hear her vocalize by the way.)

In walked my friend holding coffee and polystyrene boxes.

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“I brought brunch.”

We sat across from each other and shared half of each box.  Butters was treated to some bacon.

“My heart is smiling at my stomach right now,” I said.  “This is right up there – top 10 happiest moments.”

And it was.

My dog was okay, my friend had showed up and the food was amazing.

Before she left I added, “You’re her favorite person that comes over.”

“I’m the only person who comes over.”

I had to laugh at that.

Point well made – but things change. Could be in a few months that I don’t even live here anymore.

But I can count on who will walk through my front door.

I can always count on my friends.

And I don’t want to know the future – because I might miss something getting there.

Until next time –

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