Thursday, September 01, 2005


So much going on right now that I feel things slipping. Work, especially. Slipping, that is. Yesterday was Em's birthday, which went by in a blur of sweet energy. So many people came by or called to say hi and drop off a gift. Her best friend took her out to the Tea Cozy for tea and crustless sandwiches. She came back wearing a crown, draped in jewels, grinning sweetly...

The bittersweet edge to her growing up is accentuated by the fact that she leaves in a week to go to boarding school. A great school, a wonderful thing for her, but I'm doing a lot of walking around trying not to burst into tears.

My dad is in the hospital with an infection that has migrated to his bloodstream. He got hit with type one diabetes ten months ago and he's been wrapped around the axle ever since. Can't seem to get stablized, lots of medical errors, etc. He was down in LA for a District Attorney's convention last week when he went sideways and got rushed to the hospital down there. Checked himself out a day later, came home, went back into the hospital. He's supposed to be on IV fluids and antibiotics. After seven hours there, the nurse checked his IV bag, said "Hmm....I wonder why that's not going down?" and then undid the clamp that was holding the line shut.... Dad's supposed to retire in a couple of months and we're all fighting with him trying to get him to quit going in, you know, just put in a cursory appearance every few days, but quit 'working'...he's not the kind of guy who can do that. Although this hospitalization has his attention. Maybe he'll start to listen now.

Drama of other sorts swirling around us, friends in marital hell, family strife....I'm taking a couple of classes this semester, and trying to make it to class three nights a week, although they're fun classes, is hard to do...mostly I feel like I'm barely there at work. Cases piling up again, things being left undone...


On the deepest level, I'm fine and none of this touches me. On all the other levels, I'm a nervous poodle.

This is all just very normal stuff. Life doing its thang. I mean, shit, I've got running water. Power. A car. Some money in the bank. A house.

An embarrasment of riches.

And yet I fuss and whine.

I need to crack myself open, let in some light.....


Blogger Radish King said...

Oh it gets so overwhelming sometimes. I believed for a while that it was my job to sit on the couch and cry. I was supposed to be doing it. It wasn't much fun, but someone had to do it, and that someone was me. I'm doing something else now, thank god, that is more fun, cause the wheel has turned, as it does, as it always does. I might be on the couch again, soon. And it will be where I'm supposed to be.

Love out to you and your family, your dad and your friends.


11:20 AM  
Blogger tearful dishwasher said...

Hey Rebecca-

Thanks for the thoughts of support. It's good to be a little bit miserable from time to time. Makes all the good days better. But, yeah, right now I'm in the midst of a funk.

I'm grateful for your concern.


12:21 PM  
Blogger LKD said...

Whenever I read your work, and Native's, and Zola's, I'm always struck by how honest the voice seems, how clear, how unfiltered. And that causes me, always when I read anything by you or Native or Zola, to pause long and hard and really question what I'm doing and why I'm doing it in my own writing. Because my own voice strikes me as so contrived, so dishonest.

Thanks for posting a poem for a change. Not that I don't love your collages, Scott, it's just that I love your poetry too.

Last night, I tried to write a poem about you and what you've posted recently. It didn't quite come together. So, I'll convey here what I was trying to say in the failed poem. You said that you felt like you needed to crack yourself open and let some light in. I wanted to say no, no, you've got that backwards: Crack yourself open and let some more of that light out.

I hope your father's health improves.

Would it be too nosey of me to ask what classes you're taking?

Again, thank you for posting a poem.

11:08 AM  
Blogger tearful dishwasher said...

Hey Laurel-

I'll give you the same advice right back, sort of. That is, don't underestimate the amount of light you throw off. Don't take your gift for granted. You tear at the world with ferocious energy, and you can't know the effect you have on it.

Anyway. Thanks for your kind words. I'm glad to have a friend like you.


4:47 PM  

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