Grey But Okay

M's voice scratched through the telephone at 8:30 this morning. I was in a deep restfully good sleep - a very rare occurance. He wanted me to know he's cashed the money orders I gave him for the cabinet installation. Then he gave me detailed instructions on how the estimate should be written because as he informed me, he is experienced in the mysterious ways of insurance reimbursements. I am not one for details, a part of my personality which always gets me into trouble. Part of me just doesn't want to be bothered. "Unh huh, uh hunh, right," says I. "Do whatever." Even when I agree with him, it's not enough. He will come over Monday evening to go over the paperwork with me - ARGGGGGHHHHHHHH! When am I going to be left alone to enjoy my new kitchen. There's still no stove but the new Samsung Industrial size microwave is on the wall. Mon dieu! I will post pics of the entire process from burned kitchen to final installation of the new and shiny. Then the Barbie will get her cooking on!!! I may never come up for air. I have missed trying new recipes each week. Cookies for everyone! I phoned E last night from the vacuum cleaner aisle at Wal-Mart. I'd forgotten the name of the brand she recommended. She is queen of all things clean. On the other hand, I'd be hard pressed to tell you what Comet is good for. I purchased the new Dirt Devil. For $45 I got a little, red, magic machine that sucks up dirt like a bohemoth. I also filled both freezers in anticipation of cooking marathons to come. E's birthday was Tuesday. I promised to treat her to dinner tonight but only if I can pick the restaurant. There is a new sushi place I want to try. I will NOT let her drag me to Red Lobster.

I am addicted to New York portraits, a most amazing blog. It's owner, an architecht named Kitty takes wonderful pics of the city and posts them with equally amazing narrative. I am a lover of clean, simple everything. This blog has that. There is also a great list of blogs on the site, some of which I have read also. Today's excellent read came from http://ramblingsfromanenglishgarden.blogspot.com/.

It's Saturday and there's much to be done. The weather is cool and grey. Just the way I like it. Tomorrow's forecast calls for rain. It will be a perfect day for regenerating - nesting.

The kitchen is still a battle zone. I dreamed of shiny oak cabinets all day and during another boring meeting after work. The Daylight Robbers have stepped up their encroachment on my personal time. I expect that soon, they will have meetings to schedule meetings. The agenda; blah blah blablahlbeahbleah blah. I was dizzy by the time I got home and not having a sink or stove is wearing the last good nerve I have to a nub.
I listened to NPR on the drive home and heard them talk about an upcoming story on the Middle Class. What Middle Class? The term sounds as outdated today as mother's apron. What used to be a Middle Class is now just a demographic of working drones, barely surviving, hiding under the covers waiting for the next gas hike. Forget that. I'm still in sticker shock after checking out the price of Hillshire Sausages at the corner grocer; 4.69$ That's obscene. I used to enjoy shopping in the grocery store. Today it's like walking through a mine field of sheep do do, very unpleasant. Tread lightly, or you'll come away broke, busted, disgusted.

Americans on the other hand, pretty much deserve what's happening to them. We don't pay attention to laws and policies that will ultimately affect our lives in negative ways. We don't make our leaders accountable. Government is Us but we think Government is the politicians who don't give a dam about working people unless we make them care. No matter how bad things get, we chugger on. Life as usual. Handing over our hard earned cash. The people running the greedy corporations and banks count on our stupidity and our inertia. We don't let them down. Cha ching.

Reprieve

One more blessed day from work and tomorrow the bell in the big house rings and all the slaves will return to the grind. I spent a good part of yesterday wondering why after several days I wasn't feeling better. Whatever I came down with, it does't want to let go. I stared out onto the neighbor's rooftop for a long time feeling like I was on a slow moving starship making its way through jello. It rained nonstop and everything was covered in grey.

Bits and pieces of phrases that will find their way into my writing popped into my mind. Like this one; Aunt Elma believed that by watching marathon episodes of Criminal Minds, she could manifest a serial killer to rid her of the neighbors across the street. The visual is a serial killer sneaking up on Elma in the dark as she clutches the remote. I thought it was hilarious. Read a couple of ZZ Paacker's stories. Liked them more than I thought I would. Her writing is clean/fluid, strong messages, cleverly delivered.

(D) left me these words when I saw her a few days ago. She always brings up my writing and the inevitable question came up. Have you ever tried publishing your stories? Well of course I've published but too infrequently to matter, so I said ,"yes and no." Her response; "What are you waiting for?" I don't have an answer. So her question is haunting me. I suppose, she knew it would. That's why I was at the Poets and Writers site for hours yesterday, looking at the listings for submissions. Trying to decide where to send your writing is like submittig your body to the rack for torture. I settled on Paddlefish, Perigree, Pilgrimage, Seven Circle Press, Sleet, Anderbo and Battered Suitcase. It's not like I'm indecisive or anything.

The Blessed Event has arrived. Lowes is here with the kitchen cabinets. Gotta get the camera!

Quakes Within and Without

Last Wednesday, I woke up feeling out of sorts. My energy was low. I seemed to cough for no reason and it felt as if goldfish were swimming around in my stomach. By midmorning, I had to have someone cover for me at work while I went to the bathroom. At first I thought the diverticulitis was kicking in again. But I couldn't remember eating anything that would make me sick. I am brutally realistic about most things but accepting that my body is mortal and prone to illness is not one of them. I crawled home at the end of the day and expected to be up and at 'em by morning but that was not to be and I am just now moving around after spending the last three days in bed. I got out once to keep an appointment with (D). She had given me "homework." at out last meeting. I dutifullly wanted to hear her response to what I had written. Whatever IT was, it is reluctant to let me go. I have noticed that as I have become older, when I get sick, I tend to think it is fatal. Illness for me is a rare occurance but one can never be too smug about the hand of fate.

I feel guilty about anything I have ever complained about...........

Who hasn't seen the horrific news coming out of Haiti. Nature has a way of declaring its omnipotence and making men feel insignificant in the wake of its power. I have watched newsmen and women on CNN break down as they try to report on the earthquake which leveled Port au Prince. No one could be inured to so much suffering. Each of us must do what we can...pray....give....volunteer. May God have mercy on us all and may the people of Haiti find strength to endure.