Her coffee was cold by now as she stirred it lazily with a spoon. Head rested on her hand; her mind lolled over his words from the beginning.
"Of course I like you, I talk to you everyday, I come to visit on the weekends. Would I do that if I didn't like you? I just don't want to be in a serious relationship for a while. I told you that from the get-go, right?"
She had heard those words so often before. From her own lips. It's what she said when she didn't really see a relationship going anywhere but liked having the company. She stopped listening to his feigned 'sorries' and dwelt in her thoughts. no wonder I steer clear of relationships. This feels awful! I always knew I was protecting myself from something . She had seen the hurt looking back at her from the other side of a table; just as hers had looked back at him now. She had always been able to keep eye contact, never faltering as she tore worlds apart. The eye contact was not broken at this moment either. "Karma is a bitch isn't she?" Her words cut his sentence off while he was in the midst of talking in circles around himself.
"Wait, what?" He stuttered, thrown off by her sudden input into the so far one sided conversation.
She laughed and finally took her eyes off the swirling, caramel colored drink. "I said, 'karma is a bitch'". Sitting up from her lazy slouch she breathed in deeply here we go she thought. "You don't have to explain yourself to me. I get it, really, I do. I've said the same thing to every person since my fiancé. Honestly, stop apologizing"
He stared wide eyed back at her. He wasn't accustomed to being told anything outright like that but she wasn't used to being told no. She never thought the shoe would be on the other foot, usually the wall she built up held strong against a pair of blue eyes; not this time. "How obnoxious", she whispered under her breath, accidentally saying her thoughts out loud. Shaking her head she continued, " I am usually the one saying this to people, nobody says this to me. I'm not trying to sound conceited but I don't let anyone close enough to pull this kind of stuff. I'm just angry with myself really. I let myself like you more than you liked me." She rolled her eyes in annoyance and muttered, "that won't be happening again".
Blue eyes looked back at her sadly really? You are giving me a pity look? Fuck that shit; the look made her blood boil. "Look, I don't really care what you do" , she really did, " I'm just going with the flow" she put on her best poker face. Sometimes her expressions gave away her thoughts but not this time. She wouldn't give him the pleasure of knowing that he had that power over her; the power to break her heart.
"I don't have time for this sort of silliness. I won't be someone's second choice. I won't be the one to fill someone's time just because they want a person to hang out with. I am too good for that. So, if you can say that somewhere down the line you see this working then I don't have a problem continuing this. Whatever this is."
Blank, sad eyes looked back at her, "So I keep you now or lose you forever?"
"What do you mean?" She was puzzled.
"you'll go find someone else."
"No I won't." She lied. a wise woman leaves before she is left looped through her mind; it had become her calling card by now. She wanted to leave an open window for if he ever came walking back into her life. If this is how he was going to play this game she wanted to make sure that he got back what he deserved, ten fold. Nobody was going to make her fall in love and then ruin her. Every man who tried always paid dearly for that mistake.
"Listen", she sighed, "You told me that you didn't want a relationship for a while right? Well, you can't drag me around. Figure your shit out and if I am still available then maybe we can talk; I probably won't be available but if I am then you can call."
She pushed her cup to the middle of her table and pressed her hands onto the edge. Biggest mistake you have ever made sliding her chair from under the table she stood and tossed some cash onto the table you will come back, they always do, she smirked at the thought. He watched her carefully, silently as she turned to walk out the door.
"I don't know what to say."
She stopped abruptly and looked back, "Don't say anything. Just fix yourself and come back to me okay?"
"Okay" he smiled, a little light returning to his eyes.
******
The darkness welcomed her as she opened the front door. Sweeping past the light switch she threw her handbag onto the floor in the entryway. Her path was rote; through the front door, ten steps forward, turn right. From there three steps to the left was the kitchen or fifteen steps in front of her was the living room. Moving forward she stopped just before the couch. Her eyes were adjusting now and she could see the faint outline of the television and the tall bookshelf standing next to it.
She was so proud of her bookshelf. She had crafted it herself and filled it to the brim with books both new and old. She loved the smell of the old yellowing books that she spent hours in antique stores searching for. The new ones she loved just as much as they were always filled with such amazing adventures. She glided toward it whimsically as her thoughts took her through the titles that she had carefully organized. She knew the location of each one. She paused in front of it fourth shelf down. Sixth book from the right. her fingers skimmed across the spines. She stopped as her finger tips felt the familiar ridges of the leather-bound novel. It was a collection of short stories by her favorite author Edgar Allan Poe.
She lifted it from it's resting place. The scent of the leather and aging pages wafted up to her nose and she breathed in deeply, closing her eyes. Holding it in her hands she opened the cover and ran her hand down the first page then over to the side. Finding the familiar notch along the edge she dug her nails into it and pulled the pages open. "Ah, there you are" she whispered as she found her favorite story, The Tell-Tale Heart. The carved hole beneath the title of the story revealed itself clearly against the stark white of the pages and she reached inside, fingers curling around a large antique brass key. She let the book fall to the floor and moved the key into the empty hole on the shelf that the novel had once occupied. She felt blindly for the key hole, the pitch black of the lightless room made it difficult to find the small hole. The key finally slipped into its resting place; she turned it carefully.
Click the bookshelf groaned and creaked as it popped open away from the wall. She pulled it open farther and walked inside. Flames shot up from the torches that lined the wall as she walked carefully down the hallway. The floor was carpeted in deep black and the walls seemed ominous as they glowed a deep red, reflecting the light of the flickering torches. Her every step echoed around her. She quickened her pace. At the end of the hall stood a tall door. It was a deep mahogany covered in rich hand carved designs and on it rested a large brass handle that was shaped like a ring. As she grew closer to the door her steps mixed with a deep steady sound, like the beating of a heart. With each step the beat became louder and seemed to multiply. Each sound had a different rhythm but the same steady familiar pace.
As she reached the door and touched the handle the pounding stopped. Every beat paused in anxiety as if whatever was behind the door could feel her presence. She sighed and closed her eyes, Smiled and opened them again. She pulled the heavy door open with all her might. She stepped through the threshold and the pounding resumed loudly, quickly, as if everything within the room was in a sudden panic. Flames poured through the room and leapt up to rest upon the torches that hung from the walls. "My dear sweet loves, how I have missed you", she stepped gracefully toward the middle of the room where a large marble table rested. The pounding was racing. So many rhythms each now with its own anxious pace. The sound was like being surrounded by dozens of drummers each one playing his own tune with no two alike.
She hummed to herself and twirled around sending her dress spinning open in a wide circle. Lifting her arms above her head she pirouetted around the table happily moving along with the beat of the drumming. Her eyes opened as she came to a stop in front of the table and looked longingly down at it. "I loved you all, you know. I did. I couldn't let you hurt me. You understand don't you?" She ran her hands along the boxes that rested atop the large table. Each one was intricate and unique matching the personalities of what laid inside.
"You will be having some company soon. There is another that I love. He thinks that he is going to leave me." She picked up the box closest to her hand. It shuddered and began to pulse violently in fear. "Now, now my love. Calm yourself. You are safe now and so am I. You can't hurt me when you are like this. Now I can hold you forever. You and all of my other loves. I have you forever." She carefully lifted the lid to the box in her hand and reached inside. "There, there now", the heart pulsed irregularly, beating in terror. She squeezed it gently, "I promised you once I would be careful. Did I lie? I saved you from your body. He was so careless. You would have been in so much more pain if I had left you in him, he would have gotten you broken." It raced trying desperately to leap from her hand. She lowered the heart back into the box and closed the lid, "You are safe here my love. No one can break you now." She placed it back onto the table and sat down next to it. Moving it and the other boxes around her she closed her eyes and began to hum. Smiling she touched the top of each one, "There will be another soon. There will be another."
Saturday, October 13, 2012
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
Boredom has gotten the best of me ...again
So, I've been writing a book in my free time. I thought maybe I'll just start putting up pieces of what I have done. I am so bored lately so maybe this will give me the motivation to continue writing! Probably not, but it is the thought that counts.
Prologue: The Keeper of the Fates
Part 1
The sound of the rain pouring down through the trees mixed loudly with the racing hooves of a sleek, black stallion. The hooded rider tucked expertly under the incoming branches from the foliage around, moving as one with the horse. The dark night made it even more difficult for her to see through the rain, still she pulled her hood down lower covering her eyes, almost blocking her sight completely. Leaning in toward the horse she edged it faster over the wooded terrain. She felt the flex of every muscle in the powerful animal’s body as it was pushed to the limit. The faster she could get there the faster this all would be over. They both would be able to rest.
The lightning flashed in the sky above, illuminating the realm around her. She began counting the seconds until she heard the sound of thunder. “One. Two. Three” She counted slowly, “Four. Five”. Thunder rolled in the near distance. The loud rumble lasted for what seemed like an eternity. The storm is close now. It will be on top of her soon, she knew the worst of it was yet to come. She leaned forward into her stallion again, “Please go faster, boy. I know you can do it. I know it’s hard but we will be there soon”. The horse snorted through his nostrils and pushed down harder into the soft ground, pressing faster into the darkness.
“It should be close now”, she thought aloud. She glanced up and squinted, straining to see through the rain. In the distance a cave was aglow with firelight, “There, that’s it.” The thunder clapped again nearly just over her head. “If I don’t get there tonight I won’t have another chance at this. A storm this size only happens once. Come on boy. Hiyah!” They raced forward quickly gaining on their destination.
Nearing their purpose in the mountainside, the rider began to slow her horse, “Easy boy, easy. You did it”. She pulled back the reigns bringing the mighty horse to a stop. He stomped his feet loudly, expressing his irritation for having been pushed so hard for so long in these dreary conditions. She rubbed his neck apologetically and pulled him toward the cave with caution. She had no choice; this had to be done tonight.
Hood still lowered she slowly approached the wide, open mouth of the cave. Next to the fire sat a hunched figure. Thunder clapped again. She jumped, startled at the abrupt sound breaking into her careful concentration. She had inadvertently let out a gasp as her body jolted along with the powerful crash. The hunched figure shuffled in its place and began to turn slowly to face her, her gasp had alerted the shadow-like form to her presence. She stopped suddenly as she saw the movement and held her breath, frightened. Her horse began shuffling back and forth, sensing her fear and reacting as if begging her to retreat. She stood still, waiting.
The figure was turned toward her now, face masked by the darkness and the flickering firelight behind it. Raising its arm it beckoned her closer. She began to move again into the shelter of the massive cavern. Her horse stood still, forcing his hooves into the ground. He sensed the danger in the approach and tried earnestly to prevent moving any closer. She tugged on the reigns, they both needed to be out of the rain. Hesitantly, he began to move. She pulled him closer to her. In case things went poorly she would need quick access to an escape.
Prologue: The Keeper of the Fates
Part 1
The sound of the rain pouring down through the trees mixed loudly with the racing hooves of a sleek, black stallion. The hooded rider tucked expertly under the incoming branches from the foliage around, moving as one with the horse. The dark night made it even more difficult for her to see through the rain, still she pulled her hood down lower covering her eyes, almost blocking her sight completely. Leaning in toward the horse she edged it faster over the wooded terrain. She felt the flex of every muscle in the powerful animal’s body as it was pushed to the limit. The faster she could get there the faster this all would be over. They both would be able to rest.
The lightning flashed in the sky above, illuminating the realm around her. She began counting the seconds until she heard the sound of thunder. “One. Two. Three” She counted slowly, “Four. Five”. Thunder rolled in the near distance. The loud rumble lasted for what seemed like an eternity. The storm is close now. It will be on top of her soon, she knew the worst of it was yet to come. She leaned forward into her stallion again, “Please go faster, boy. I know you can do it. I know it’s hard but we will be there soon”. The horse snorted through his nostrils and pushed down harder into the soft ground, pressing faster into the darkness.
“It should be close now”, she thought aloud. She glanced up and squinted, straining to see through the rain. In the distance a cave was aglow with firelight, “There, that’s it.” The thunder clapped again nearly just over her head. “If I don’t get there tonight I won’t have another chance at this. A storm this size only happens once. Come on boy. Hiyah!” They raced forward quickly gaining on their destination.
Nearing their purpose in the mountainside, the rider began to slow her horse, “Easy boy, easy. You did it”. She pulled back the reigns bringing the mighty horse to a stop. He stomped his feet loudly, expressing his irritation for having been pushed so hard for so long in these dreary conditions. She rubbed his neck apologetically and pulled him toward the cave with caution. She had no choice; this had to be done tonight.
Hood still lowered she slowly approached the wide, open mouth of the cave. Next to the fire sat a hunched figure. Thunder clapped again. She jumped, startled at the abrupt sound breaking into her careful concentration. She had inadvertently let out a gasp as her body jolted along with the powerful crash. The hunched figure shuffled in its place and began to turn slowly to face her, her gasp had alerted the shadow-like form to her presence. She stopped suddenly as she saw the movement and held her breath, frightened. Her horse began shuffling back and forth, sensing her fear and reacting as if begging her to retreat. She stood still, waiting.
The figure was turned toward her now, face masked by the darkness and the flickering firelight behind it. Raising its arm it beckoned her closer. She began to move again into the shelter of the massive cavern. Her horse stood still, forcing his hooves into the ground. He sensed the danger in the approach and tried earnestly to prevent moving any closer. She tugged on the reigns, they both needed to be out of the rain. Hesitantly, he began to move. She pulled him closer to her. In case things went poorly she would need quick access to an escape.
Tuesday, August 7, 2012
The House on Sleepy Hollow
The sky was grey and dreary as I rode around the corner of the entrance to my old subdivision. The dark, deep brown house that terrified me when I was little stood ominously to my left. I rode slowly forward looking for a shorter or quicker path to my destination. I was searching for something, someone I think.
I came upon my old house and the gate stood partially opened. Riding closer I was able to kick it wider and pedal through, my sister rode with me keeping close behind. I followed up along the gate riding on a cement slab that I don't remember being there when I was awake, but it was there now so I lead my bike over it. My old swing set was bigger here in my dreams; longer, darker, foreign. I continued past it looking around for the other opening in the tall wooden privacy fence. Moving my bike onward fear began to grow in my gut. Maybe it was anxiety. Feelings can be so similar in dreams.
As I pushed on the pedals of the bike, that I once rode when I was young, I felt a pain on the bottoms of my feet. Sharp, stabbing pain. I pushed harder, still the pain only grew. I looked down to my feet and lifted them away from the bicycle. Where there had been flat, plastic, white pedals was only the metal that had once held them. On both sides the metal stood straight up, pinched closed on the ends. Why did this experience have to be so painful all of the sudden? I put my feet back down and started moving again, ignoring the pain that followed each rotation.
Finally, the other entrance gate in the fence was within view. I sped to it hoping that the new owners to this house would not catch me, I didn't know them, they could be dangerous. I zipped through, rolling into the street. My eyes focused on the house that I came here for. A little one story ranch just down the road a few houses before the cul-de-sac. Its roof slanted downward over the dark blue siding. The front door was tucked back into the porch hidden behind some tall foliage. As I neared it the other homes that lived in my childhood memories blurred together; foggy relics of places and people I once knew.
After what seemed like an eternity I reached the house where I had spent many days playing and laughing. I hopped off my bike and looked back. My sister was still there right behind me but everything else had disappeared. It was only the two of us and this house. I took a deep breath and climbed the steps to on the porch leading to the door, raised my fist to knock and paused in fear of what would happen next. I urged myself to keep going. With my stomach in my throat I rapped lightly on the door and waited for an answer.
A tall, wide set man in a tan bowling shirt replied to my hesitant knocking by opening the door and stepping out. His dark brown eyes glistened as he smiled broadly down toward my sister and me. Looking up at this abnormally tall man I asked him for a specific family name and whether they resided there. He chuckled kindly and replied, "No, they don't live here anymore. Maybe you could try one of the other houses." He pointed off in the direction of the cul-de-sac.
I whirled around and suddenly I stood at the end of the drive staring wide-eyed at the picture before me. The world around me had disappeared and I was alone in front of a huge yellow house. The windows and door were as dark as ink that had spilled across the table from the bottle. As friendly as the color may have been it was the dark black of the rest of the house that caused my stomach to leap back to my throat. It was as if the house was telling me what I already knew.
The blank darkness of the glass hurled itself toward me as the memories flooded back. I wasn't searching for a family. I was searching for one person. One person that could not be found here in this small blue house that I rode to. Not there in that bright yellow house with the jet black features marring its sunny face. I already know where this person is and they can never be found again. Not here in this dream of mine and not in the world where I am awake.
Still I search. For fifteen years I have searched. Looking here in this world of dreams knowing that this place might be the only place I can find them. I still can't find them. My heart begging to be forgiven for a fault from long ago. To take back events. To change the order of time. To alter a moment so small and so fleeting that it should not have mattered at all. It was worth the flicker of a humming bird's wing, the flutter of an eye before it closes to sleep, or a whisper in the wind that blows through the autumn trees. These things, these small insignificant things change every moment that follows like a ripple in a calm glass lake gleaming as the sun begins to rise from its slumber.
It is curious how everything froze in my one small moment, trapped by death to remain un-mended. Rippling for always by a miniscule stone tossed repeatedly into the same center in a continuos loop through time. To leave me searching forever for the shore that may stop it. Forever for the mend to the fault.
I fear I will have to search my dreams for eternity.
I came upon my old house and the gate stood partially opened. Riding closer I was able to kick it wider and pedal through, my sister rode with me keeping close behind. I followed up along the gate riding on a cement slab that I don't remember being there when I was awake, but it was there now so I lead my bike over it. My old swing set was bigger here in my dreams; longer, darker, foreign. I continued past it looking around for the other opening in the tall wooden privacy fence. Moving my bike onward fear began to grow in my gut. Maybe it was anxiety. Feelings can be so similar in dreams.
As I pushed on the pedals of the bike, that I once rode when I was young, I felt a pain on the bottoms of my feet. Sharp, stabbing pain. I pushed harder, still the pain only grew. I looked down to my feet and lifted them away from the bicycle. Where there had been flat, plastic, white pedals was only the metal that had once held them. On both sides the metal stood straight up, pinched closed on the ends. Why did this experience have to be so painful all of the sudden? I put my feet back down and started moving again, ignoring the pain that followed each rotation.
Finally, the other entrance gate in the fence was within view. I sped to it hoping that the new owners to this house would not catch me, I didn't know them, they could be dangerous. I zipped through, rolling into the street. My eyes focused on the house that I came here for. A little one story ranch just down the road a few houses before the cul-de-sac. Its roof slanted downward over the dark blue siding. The front door was tucked back into the porch hidden behind some tall foliage. As I neared it the other homes that lived in my childhood memories blurred together; foggy relics of places and people I once knew.
After what seemed like an eternity I reached the house where I had spent many days playing and laughing. I hopped off my bike and looked back. My sister was still there right behind me but everything else had disappeared. It was only the two of us and this house. I took a deep breath and climbed the steps to on the porch leading to the door, raised my fist to knock and paused in fear of what would happen next. I urged myself to keep going. With my stomach in my throat I rapped lightly on the door and waited for an answer.
A tall, wide set man in a tan bowling shirt replied to my hesitant knocking by opening the door and stepping out. His dark brown eyes glistened as he smiled broadly down toward my sister and me. Looking up at this abnormally tall man I asked him for a specific family name and whether they resided there. He chuckled kindly and replied, "No, they don't live here anymore. Maybe you could try one of the other houses." He pointed off in the direction of the cul-de-sac.
I whirled around and suddenly I stood at the end of the drive staring wide-eyed at the picture before me. The world around me had disappeared and I was alone in front of a huge yellow house. The windows and door were as dark as ink that had spilled across the table from the bottle. As friendly as the color may have been it was the dark black of the rest of the house that caused my stomach to leap back to my throat. It was as if the house was telling me what I already knew.
The blank darkness of the glass hurled itself toward me as the memories flooded back. I wasn't searching for a family. I was searching for one person. One person that could not be found here in this small blue house that I rode to. Not there in that bright yellow house with the jet black features marring its sunny face. I already know where this person is and they can never be found again. Not here in this dream of mine and not in the world where I am awake.
Still I search. For fifteen years I have searched. Looking here in this world of dreams knowing that this place might be the only place I can find them. I still can't find them. My heart begging to be forgiven for a fault from long ago. To take back events. To change the order of time. To alter a moment so small and so fleeting that it should not have mattered at all. It was worth the flicker of a humming bird's wing, the flutter of an eye before it closes to sleep, or a whisper in the wind that blows through the autumn trees. These things, these small insignificant things change every moment that follows like a ripple in a calm glass lake gleaming as the sun begins to rise from its slumber.
It is curious how everything froze in my one small moment, trapped by death to remain un-mended. Rippling for always by a miniscule stone tossed repeatedly into the same center in a continuos loop through time. To leave me searching forever for the shore that may stop it. Forever for the mend to the fault.
I fear I will have to search my dreams for eternity.
Tuesday, July 3, 2012
something good...
"Every day may not be good but there is good in every day"
I wake up every morning and roll out of bed leaving my snuggly furry babies in the warmth of my fuzzy pink blankets. I yawn, stretch and ponder momentarily about crawling back into my cozy nest. I shake the thought away, "You can't spend your life in bed sleeping no matter how amazing it is!" Falling through the doorway to my bathroom I flip on the lights and squint my eyes in disgust at the beams forcing themselves so viciously into my pupils. I hate mornings. I sleepily fumble through my morning ritual; turn on shower, waste time on facebook while the shower warms up, get in shower and wonder why it is socially unacceptable to skip this every day and how much it would really affect others if I just bypassed this silliness. Finish annoying shower step, wash my face, brush my chompers, and sit in the sink (yes I sit in the sink every morning) to do my hair and consider putting on make-up. I opt against it. I am not going to work to find a suitor. My kids don't care if I look like Michelle Pfeiffer's character, Lamia, in the movie Stardust; in the end battle scene.
Yet another day has begun. Ugh.
My poor pups give me sad, sleepy eyes in silent complaint as I gently wake them from their slumber. Once I leave the bed for my "morning torture" they are in heaven and sprawl in every direction in a state of overwhelming comfort. We all walk outside, still only half awake. After our walk they get to go back to sleep for a few more hours in my sister's room so I don't know what they would be complaining about when I wake them.
Time to go to work. I grab my bag and keys and walk out the door, leaving my coffee and breakfast sitting on the counter top. Again. Without fail, I trip down one or two stairs and pause mumbling curses to the cement death trap that is my stairwell. I locate my unbelievably classy '95 Camry and climb in. I need to clean it again as there are dog nose smears on all the windows. I'll do it tomorrow. The best thing about tomorrow is that there is always another one. Please start, car, please start. Ah, there is the familiar low grumble of my increasingly rusty chariot of glamour. Yea buddy! We are good. Five minutes late?! How did that take five extra minutes? GAH!
I race to work now, driving like a crazy person. Cussing at all of the geniuses on the round-a-bouts and swearing that I should be the person handing out driver's licenses. In reality, I am probably just as bad a driver though this is the only time I will admit it. I pull in to the spot that has become my regular place and walk quickly to the back to clock-in. Ah, the usual line at the computers. We have about a bazillion people that need to clock-in and only two "all staff" computers that we conveniently get to share with the children. The hardrives run slower than a tortoise on sedatives and it is 8:14. One more minute and I am late! Come on. weemmert...*enter*...wrong user name? What?! weemmert...*enter*...wrong again?! Stupid god forsaken client login company time clo...oh wait. yea that's right. I was typing the wrong user name. Ball sack! It is one 'E', one freaking 'E'! 8:16 AHHHH! one minute late! I am surprised I still have a job, I am always clocking in at 8:16.
Another day starting off stupendously! *sarcasm*
I am prepared to face my day, expecting it to go as well as it started. woohoo. The minutes blur into hours as I rush through my whole morning. There isn't enough time to get my job done. Enough time? Who am I kidding? There is NO time to get my job done. I haven't opened one of my kids' binders to update graphs and check programs for at least 3 weeks. I shudder to think of the amount of data pages that need scanned. Three weeks worth of work and rarely less than five kids to test needs to be done in four hours. Unless I have lunches, then it is 2.5 hours. Fingers crossed that someone else is open to help. No? Ah nuts.
I am racing around the center. Frequently I am forgetting what it was I was doing or who it was I was looking for. Did I remember to take my adderrol? Clearly I need to start investing in extended release. Then it happens. It always comes in different forms. Never at the same time of the day. But always when I need it most. A small but loud voice fills the room in a flurry of strung together sentences that only make sense to those who hear them daily, "Hi, Whitney! How are you today? you are good? There's nothing to see! Oh my gosh, Nemo is swimming out to sea. Buh buh buh ( that would be Blue's voice from Blue's Clues). Did you see the doctor's coat? It's beeeauuutiful". My heart smiles. A warm, filling, bursting, insanely happy, heart smile.
It may not have been a good day but I certainly found my good. Every day it is different. Maybe it is a bright smile or giggle for no reason from a "little". Perhaps it is a huge overwhelming hug from a kiddo that I haven't seen in maybe an hour but they still felt like hugging me anyway. My all time favorite moments are the spontaneous "typical" skills that occur. The ones that we all spend countless periods trying to teach. The ones that we all take for granted like looking someone in the eye to acknowledge they need something, saying a sentence that has more than one word, or turning toward someone when they hear their name. My list goes on and on.
To be honest, my "goods" don't only happen at work but I would be lying if I said those weren't the best kind. My dog's are constantly doing things that make me laugh. Sometimes when a fresh breeze blows through filling my nose with the scent of spring or fall I smile, relishing the calming feeling that comes with it.
Every day is full of small, happy moments that I forget about. Unfortunately, it is easier to focus on the bad things that happen daily. The stress, the amount of work, the lack of time, the drama, the frustrations, the loneliness, the bills, and the relationships. Sometimes I fall asleep at night and wonder what on earth the plan for my life is and if it will forever be a dreary chain of waking, working, and drowning in debt. Destined to spend my days working toward a life and a love that isn't written into my stars. With that kind of thinking it is inevitable that my life will turn out exactly the way I don't want it to.
I spend my spare thinking moments repeating things in my head as reminders that life is what you make it and there is a plan that will wind up going the right way even if it isn't the way that I might see it going. I have decided that in addition to my inspirational thoughts and mirror full of dry erase markered quotes that serve as visual reminders that life is in fact awesome, I will find the good in every day. Even if that day was not good. That one good will turn into two, then three and so on. Eventually the goods will outweigh the bad without me having to consciously search for them at the end of everyday. My heart will smile more, my soul will feel lighter, I will enjoy the little things in life just a bit more, and I won't feel the urge to growl at people on a regular basis (this is something that I have yet to actually do but that doesn't mean I haven't wanted to).
So, today's good...
My little one was full of giggles and happiness today at work. Whatever they were thinking I wish they could have shared. I spent the whole afternoon grinning back and trying to track their eyes, wondering what it could have been that was making them so unbelievably happy and so in love with life at that moment. I am in awe of these fantastic children. They never cease to amaze me!
I wake up every morning and roll out of bed leaving my snuggly furry babies in the warmth of my fuzzy pink blankets. I yawn, stretch and ponder momentarily about crawling back into my cozy nest. I shake the thought away, "You can't spend your life in bed sleeping no matter how amazing it is!" Falling through the doorway to my bathroom I flip on the lights and squint my eyes in disgust at the beams forcing themselves so viciously into my pupils. I hate mornings. I sleepily fumble through my morning ritual; turn on shower, waste time on facebook while the shower warms up, get in shower and wonder why it is socially unacceptable to skip this every day and how much it would really affect others if I just bypassed this silliness. Finish annoying shower step, wash my face, brush my chompers, and sit in the sink (yes I sit in the sink every morning) to do my hair and consider putting on make-up. I opt against it. I am not going to work to find a suitor. My kids don't care if I look like Michelle Pfeiffer's character, Lamia, in the movie Stardust; in the end battle scene.
Yet another day has begun. Ugh.
My poor pups give me sad, sleepy eyes in silent complaint as I gently wake them from their slumber. Once I leave the bed for my "morning torture" they are in heaven and sprawl in every direction in a state of overwhelming comfort. We all walk outside, still only half awake. After our walk they get to go back to sleep for a few more hours in my sister's room so I don't know what they would be complaining about when I wake them.
Time to go to work. I grab my bag and keys and walk out the door, leaving my coffee and breakfast sitting on the counter top. Again. Without fail, I trip down one or two stairs and pause mumbling curses to the cement death trap that is my stairwell. I locate my unbelievably classy '95 Camry and climb in. I need to clean it again as there are dog nose smears on all the windows. I'll do it tomorrow. The best thing about tomorrow is that there is always another one. Please start, car, please start. Ah, there is the familiar low grumble of my increasingly rusty chariot of glamour. Yea buddy! We are good. Five minutes late?! How did that take five extra minutes? GAH!
I race to work now, driving like a crazy person. Cussing at all of the geniuses on the round-a-bouts and swearing that I should be the person handing out driver's licenses. In reality, I am probably just as bad a driver though this is the only time I will admit it. I pull in to the spot that has become my regular place and walk quickly to the back to clock-in. Ah, the usual line at the computers. We have about a bazillion people that need to clock-in and only two "all staff" computers that we conveniently get to share with the children. The hardrives run slower than a tortoise on sedatives and it is 8:14. One more minute and I am late! Come on. weemmert...*enter*...wrong user name? What?! weemmert...*enter*...wrong again?! Stupid god forsaken client login company time clo...oh wait. yea that's right. I was typing the wrong user name. Ball sack! It is one 'E', one freaking 'E'! 8:16 AHHHH! one minute late! I am surprised I still have a job, I am always clocking in at 8:16.
Another day starting off stupendously! *sarcasm*
I am prepared to face my day, expecting it to go as well as it started. woohoo. The minutes blur into hours as I rush through my whole morning. There isn't enough time to get my job done. Enough time? Who am I kidding? There is NO time to get my job done. I haven't opened one of my kids' binders to update graphs and check programs for at least 3 weeks. I shudder to think of the amount of data pages that need scanned. Three weeks worth of work and rarely less than five kids to test needs to be done in four hours. Unless I have lunches, then it is 2.5 hours. Fingers crossed that someone else is open to help. No? Ah nuts.
I am racing around the center. Frequently I am forgetting what it was I was doing or who it was I was looking for. Did I remember to take my adderrol? Clearly I need to start investing in extended release. Then it happens. It always comes in different forms. Never at the same time of the day. But always when I need it most. A small but loud voice fills the room in a flurry of strung together sentences that only make sense to those who hear them daily, "Hi, Whitney! How are you today? you are good? There's nothing to see! Oh my gosh, Nemo is swimming out to sea. Buh buh buh ( that would be Blue's voice from Blue's Clues). Did you see the doctor's coat? It's beeeauuutiful". My heart smiles. A warm, filling, bursting, insanely happy, heart smile.
It may not have been a good day but I certainly found my good. Every day it is different. Maybe it is a bright smile or giggle for no reason from a "little". Perhaps it is a huge overwhelming hug from a kiddo that I haven't seen in maybe an hour but they still felt like hugging me anyway. My all time favorite moments are the spontaneous "typical" skills that occur. The ones that we all spend countless periods trying to teach. The ones that we all take for granted like looking someone in the eye to acknowledge they need something, saying a sentence that has more than one word, or turning toward someone when they hear their name. My list goes on and on.
To be honest, my "goods" don't only happen at work but I would be lying if I said those weren't the best kind. My dog's are constantly doing things that make me laugh. Sometimes when a fresh breeze blows through filling my nose with the scent of spring or fall I smile, relishing the calming feeling that comes with it.
Every day is full of small, happy moments that I forget about. Unfortunately, it is easier to focus on the bad things that happen daily. The stress, the amount of work, the lack of time, the drama, the frustrations, the loneliness, the bills, and the relationships. Sometimes I fall asleep at night and wonder what on earth the plan for my life is and if it will forever be a dreary chain of waking, working, and drowning in debt. Destined to spend my days working toward a life and a love that isn't written into my stars. With that kind of thinking it is inevitable that my life will turn out exactly the way I don't want it to.
I spend my spare thinking moments repeating things in my head as reminders that life is what you make it and there is a plan that will wind up going the right way even if it isn't the way that I might see it going. I have decided that in addition to my inspirational thoughts and mirror full of dry erase markered quotes that serve as visual reminders that life is in fact awesome, I will find the good in every day. Even if that day was not good. That one good will turn into two, then three and so on. Eventually the goods will outweigh the bad without me having to consciously search for them at the end of everyday. My heart will smile more, my soul will feel lighter, I will enjoy the little things in life just a bit more, and I won't feel the urge to growl at people on a regular basis (this is something that I have yet to actually do but that doesn't mean I haven't wanted to).
So, today's good...
My little one was full of giggles and happiness today at work. Whatever they were thinking I wish they could have shared. I spent the whole afternoon grinning back and trying to track their eyes, wondering what it could have been that was making them so unbelievably happy and so in love with life at that moment. I am in awe of these fantastic children. They never cease to amaze me!
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