angles. Grenades of thought explosions . . .
I don't seem to be sending you what I'm writing anymore. It's not that I don't want you to know what I'm thinking it's just that my thinking is being compounded daily, I'm being hit from all
angles. Grenades of thought explosions . . .
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Long days journey into the night of tomorrow morning . . . and Pink, have I ever wished for an endless night . . . lassoed the moon and the stars and held that rope tight . . . have I ever (meant to write so much more) and . . . it's only half past the point of no return, the tip of iceberg, the sun before the burn, the thunder before the lightening, breath before the phrase . . . la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, smiling, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes . . . I always feel that way. It's been quite the shock to find out I'm obsolete, in the work force I don't stand a chance, not anymore . . . the HR Director in me would sit in any interview and tell potential employers that because it's real. Where does that leave me? That leaves me exactly where I've always wanted to be. Right now I'd like to be sitting on my deck in July, air perfect, stars flyin' the Milky Way, orbs dancin' the fields . . . my house is magical . . . it's literally palpable. I've been working too long today, it's late now, I need to watch a thinky show, one I actually have to follow with a modicum of attention, hulu is such a good thing . . . when I had TV it was always on in the background, news channels. I'd program key words just like the NSA into my head. It was comical, all of sudden I’d hear a word and feel myself doing the big roll back in the chair to listen . . . I don’t miss that . . . honestly, I'd rather get my news from The Daily Show. Well, smilin' with you, that was a day . . . WAY, way too much drama, too much to be explained and all handled . . . I found myself standing in my kitchen, making my Sleepytime tea, soundin' through me the noise we all hear before those daring submarine dives, "aaaaaauuuuuuugggaaa". I kept that sound real until I could end my invocation with, "dive, Dive, DIVE" and mean it . . . what a day . . . it's amazing what a stress release that was for me, always is for me. I am most comfortable when I am being Dr. Jan. Friends think it's the Auntie Jan me that I'm most comfortable being because she's the airy fairy one. She's the one who laughs at everything, explaining it all in a very Southern Accent. Friends think she's my favorite because she is the fun one. I'm hopin' we're about to integrate Janet . . . that makes me laugh so much . . . random, random thoughts. Happy day! It's Saturday . . . I have earned the right to another cup of Vanilla Caramel Truffle tea and I have earned an apple with peanut butter AND I have earned a free TV show . . . and all on the Jewish Sabbath. Christian Sunday is different for me . . . Sunday's I pick a documentary that I would never watch for any number of reasons and I watch it just to see what I learn . . . personally I can make a case for God applauding that, if I could make a case for God ever being able to applaud. Laughing, there are moments it is fun to be me. Goodness, goodness, goodness. Someone just gifted me a bag of big marshmellows . . . I didn't eat them . . . was going to keep them for sugar emergencies until I realized I have a gas stove and kebob skewers, I can roast them. I just ate two and I know I'm headed back down for two more. This is serious, I'm going to have to quit it, I can tell . . . no more marshmellows for me, I'm going to have to amazingly enjoy every single rationed one of these. Laughing . . . otherwise I'll be jugglin' skewers. This is one of my very best stories because it makes me "feel" stronger . . . bill collectors were hounding me, one bastardy fool pissed me off way past righteousness. He was berating me, causing me to go to my knees in tears, telling me what a horrible useless woman I was . . . I asked him to stop, told him I couldn’t handle it and he kept going on and on like the energizer bunny. SO . . . I walked to the cabinet, picked up my gun, walked outside, fired it into the ground and dropped the phone onto the deck. Seconds later, when I picked it back up, I hissed at him, “Snake.” I know I scared the air out of him, I meant to, and I laughed at him, not with him, as I explained where I live . . . I still laugh every time I think about that . . . that was fun. |
About Janet:Janet DeLong, PhD, is a philosophical writer. She'd tell you that is by default, we know it's by design. While her perceptions are not always comfortable, they are always Categories
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