Tuesday, March 17, 2009

I Want to Smack the Universe

The universe is speaking to me today, and I have to say I'm not fond of what its saying. But that's always the way it is when the universe speaks to me. It usually doesn't just check in and say hello. Its like a pesky kid sister who is always in your face or messing with your stuff, and makes faces at you, and you can't smack her because you'll just be in bigger trouble. I would like to smack the universe today, but I'll just be in bigger trouble.
I am having a really hard time getting my act together lately. I am tired all the time, and I don't know if I'm really still recovering from my illness or if its just my regular amount of sloth and fatigue. I thinks it a little of both, and sometimes I know for sure that its part of my recovery because I feel drunk and fuzzy, and that is not part of my normal laziness. I am trying to reboot my life and trying to remember how to do what I do. I'm having little hiccups like going to the store and forgetting my bags and forgetting to buy bleach even though bleach was the one thing I really wanted at the store. Or putting in a load of white wash and then realizing that the reason I did the load in the first place was to wash my husband's white turtle neck that he's been soaking in a tub on the kitchen counter, and its still in the tub while the white load is almost done. Also, I start a project, like doing laundry or organizing a closet, and I get tired out midway through and everything just stops, and piles are every where. Things just aren't coming together, and I'm starting to feel really bad about it.
Today, I decided that there was one project that I could absolutely do beginning to end, that would have a significant impact. One of the shelves in our bathroom vanity broke, and for months now my make up and lotions have been sitting on the counter. The bathroom counter is pretty small, so it really gums up the works in there. So I took out the un-broken shelf and got in the car and went to tap plastics (Tap! Tap Plastics! The Fantastic Plastic Place!) to get a half inch piece of clear plastic cut to size. I got there and the tattooed guy behind the counter told me that it wouldn't work, that the plastic would bow in the middle, and though I still find this hard to believe, I appreciate that he didn't waste my time or sell me something that I'd have to replace again. He suggested I go to a glass place in Novato and order a piece of tempered glass. Novato is further away than I wanted to drive, and I don't know where the glass place is, but I do know where there is a glass place closer to my house, so I went there, frustrated, but knowing that I could feel good about at least ordering a piece of glass. I drove to the glass place - actually I drove past the glass place and had to circle around - only it wasn't a glass place anymore, it was a remnants place, and it wasn't even open. As far as I could see, it wasn't even a remnants place anymore. I returned home from my fool's errand, and now I'm right back where I started, except that now, all the other jars and bottles that were on the un-broken shelf are all over the bathroom counter, too. I have a lot of make up for someone who hardly ever wears make up.
Right after I got sick, I joked that the universe really doesn't want me to go to the gym, and that its telling me to stay on the couch where I belong, and I'm starting to believe that that little jokey joke is full of truth. Rob was saying the other day that he completely rejects the idea that the people who are multi tasking busy stress cases are somehow living more virtuous lives than those of us who prefer to take it easy, and that really resonated with me. I'm wondering if one of the lessons I was supposed to learn from my near-death experience is that it is perfectly alright for me to do nothing. My mother would have a cow if she knew I was contemplating such an existence, but for the next two hours, I'm going to lay back on the couch, forcibly snuggle my dog, and watch a movie on TV, and do nothing. I suspect that I will feel better than I do coming home from driving around in circles getting nothing done.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Hey Monica... it's 10:00 at night and I'm back in the nunn's guest residence after spending all day at St. Vincents Hospital while Rob's been in surgery and I am completely wiped out. I needed to feel connected to home but it's far too late to call the kids and then I remembered your blog you told me about a few months ago. I love your writing! It made my night especially when I'm feeling so alone. It was sooooooo special and meaningful to see you come out to wish us well when Rob and I were laeving to come down here. Thank you so much. He's going to be fine and so will you. See you soon. oxox Cathie