Disturbing and persistant day dream
I went to church today. I *know* it's Sunday. I've looked at the computer time stamp. I *know* it's Sunday. I've examined the time stamp on my cell phone. I *know* it's Sunday.
So why, with all these dead on reminders of the day, am I having these fears that someone will call from 212 wondering where I am and why I'm not teaching my Monday class? It's hit me repeatedly that I should be at school right now, teaching a class. One of those rolling over the body, buzz in the pit of the stomach feelings. It is Monday. I am not where I should be. Even now, when it's dark out and there's nothing to be done even if it were Monday, I have this dread of having not taught my classes. It's very odd.
I figured out what was so disturbing about the S2 lot. The street lights in the parking lot only go so far back. After a certain couple of spaces, your car is in the dark, outside the circle of light. I'll be sure to park around the base of the light post. Or if I persistantly can't do that, I'll start parking in S1, where there are many light posts. And a mini flashlight will become a member of my arsenal.
The wrist which was doing so well after the thesis defense has taken another turn for the worse. It was fine last night. Or as fine as it's been the past few weeks. Little twinges here and there, but nothing serious. I could rotate it fully with little discomfort, and that's all I've really asked of it since it first began to bother me however many months ago. Back when Ems was still here. Maybe it's been a full year now.
But this morning, after a perfectly normal night's sleep, it was being troublesome again. I was out of cat food in the little plastic cannister, and had to fill the tub from the bag on top of the fridge. I ended up dropping the bag after my wrist twisted. It was well sealed, with about five clothespins, so the cats didn't get a Sunday surprise, but the wrist has been irritating all day long. I had to wear the brace to pick up my laundry basket, and make three trips instead of the one ginormous trip I usually make.
I suppose I should be happy it lasted as long as it did. And I should add four rows of knitting to my nightly routine in an attempt to loosen the wrist up a bit. Some hand rolls, and the like.
Yesterday, at about 10 at night, there was a thud that literally shook my apartment. The cats ran to the bedroom. After a few minutes, it came again. I went to investigate, opening my door and looking out. Barbie sat in a largish car outside my window, watching as Mindy bodily threw herself at the door to the apt below mine. I wasn't sure what to say, so I said nothing and just stood there.
After a few more thuds, she went to the bedroom window and began knocking on it. The kind of irritating woodpecker knocking that is designed to irritate the one inside into responding. It did not let up.
I finally called out to her that the people she wanted to see obviously weren't home. Barbie, from the open window of her SUV, told me that "yes, they were, don't worry about it." I raised an eyebrow that she couldn't see, and replied that if they were home, they were going to great lengths to avoid speaking to her friend, and that maybe "you two ladies ought to take a hint."
I was told to shut it, and Mindy began hurling curses at the door, window, and apt in general. Apparently, she wanted her stuff, because she lived there too. I thought about telling her that if she lacked a key, she probably didn't actually live there, but instead, I shook my head and told Barbie that if they were still making noise in 10 minutes, I was calling the police. I went inside and shut and locked my door.
10 minutes later, I called the courtesy officer. By this time, Mindy had managed to irritate Jack into opening the door and screaming in her face about her infidelities at the party. To which Mindy yelled, of all things, that she hadn't known he was at the same party, or she wouldn't have done it. Very reassuring sentiment, that.
For some reason, Jack let Mindy into the apt, and they began stomping all around, throwing things and slamming doors. The yelling didn't stop, but it did develop a hoarse quality on Jack's part, and a squeal-and-whine quality on hers. Several invectives and insults were exchanged. Mindy continued to profess that she was innocent and that he shouldn't spy on her, while Jack repeatedly told her to get the fuck out, it was over. Why, if he wanted her out, he had let her in, is beyond me.
At the sight of flashing lights from some ways down the street, Barbie dragged Mindy back to the SUV and they attempted to escape the parking lot. Unfortunately, they all three ended up being told to be quiet and solve their problems elsewhere, where countless people weren't disturbed by them. From the officer's dialogue with them, I was one of three people who called them in.
The only thing that doesn't fit into all this is the absence of barking. There are two dogs that live in the apt below mine, and they bark all the friggen time. There's another dog in an apt caddy corner from mine who joins in regularly. None of these dogs barked. Along with this, I know there's a woman (not Mindy) who lives with Jack, and I'm pretty sure there's a man, too. I think, in fact, that Jack is the 20-something son who lives with parents. But last night, it was as though the parents had taken the dogs and gone on a weekend vacation. (Only they're back and barking now, and have been most of today.)
Truly odd.
I ought to stop procrastinating. I have a lesson plan to finish crafting, a lunch to make for tomorrow, and something like 10 chapters of Genesis to analyze in the style of Groves and Jung.
Love and Peace
So why, with all these dead on reminders of the day, am I having these fears that someone will call from 212 wondering where I am and why I'm not teaching my Monday class? It's hit me repeatedly that I should be at school right now, teaching a class. One of those rolling over the body, buzz in the pit of the stomach feelings. It is Monday. I am not where I should be. Even now, when it's dark out and there's nothing to be done even if it were Monday, I have this dread of having not taught my classes. It's very odd.
I figured out what was so disturbing about the S2 lot. The street lights in the parking lot only go so far back. After a certain couple of spaces, your car is in the dark, outside the circle of light. I'll be sure to park around the base of the light post. Or if I persistantly can't do that, I'll start parking in S1, where there are many light posts. And a mini flashlight will become a member of my arsenal.
The wrist which was doing so well after the thesis defense has taken another turn for the worse. It was fine last night. Or as fine as it's been the past few weeks. Little twinges here and there, but nothing serious. I could rotate it fully with little discomfort, and that's all I've really asked of it since it first began to bother me however many months ago. Back when Ems was still here. Maybe it's been a full year now.
But this morning, after a perfectly normal night's sleep, it was being troublesome again. I was out of cat food in the little plastic cannister, and had to fill the tub from the bag on top of the fridge. I ended up dropping the bag after my wrist twisted. It was well sealed, with about five clothespins, so the cats didn't get a Sunday surprise, but the wrist has been irritating all day long. I had to wear the brace to pick up my laundry basket, and make three trips instead of the one ginormous trip I usually make.
I suppose I should be happy it lasted as long as it did. And I should add four rows of knitting to my nightly routine in an attempt to loosen the wrist up a bit. Some hand rolls, and the like.
Yesterday, at about 10 at night, there was a thud that literally shook my apartment. The cats ran to the bedroom. After a few minutes, it came again. I went to investigate, opening my door and looking out. Barbie sat in a largish car outside my window, watching as Mindy bodily threw herself at the door to the apt below mine. I wasn't sure what to say, so I said nothing and just stood there.
After a few more thuds, she went to the bedroom window and began knocking on it. The kind of irritating woodpecker knocking that is designed to irritate the one inside into responding. It did not let up.
I finally called out to her that the people she wanted to see obviously weren't home. Barbie, from the open window of her SUV, told me that "yes, they were, don't worry about it." I raised an eyebrow that she couldn't see, and replied that if they were home, they were going to great lengths to avoid speaking to her friend, and that maybe "you two ladies ought to take a hint."
I was told to shut it, and Mindy began hurling curses at the door, window, and apt in general. Apparently, she wanted her stuff, because she lived there too. I thought about telling her that if she lacked a key, she probably didn't actually live there, but instead, I shook my head and told Barbie that if they were still making noise in 10 minutes, I was calling the police. I went inside and shut and locked my door.
10 minutes later, I called the courtesy officer. By this time, Mindy had managed to irritate Jack into opening the door and screaming in her face about her infidelities at the party. To which Mindy yelled, of all things, that she hadn't known he was at the same party, or she wouldn't have done it. Very reassuring sentiment, that.
For some reason, Jack let Mindy into the apt, and they began stomping all around, throwing things and slamming doors. The yelling didn't stop, but it did develop a hoarse quality on Jack's part, and a squeal-and-whine quality on hers. Several invectives and insults were exchanged. Mindy continued to profess that she was innocent and that he shouldn't spy on her, while Jack repeatedly told her to get the fuck out, it was over. Why, if he wanted her out, he had let her in, is beyond me.
At the sight of flashing lights from some ways down the street, Barbie dragged Mindy back to the SUV and they attempted to escape the parking lot. Unfortunately, they all three ended up being told to be quiet and solve their problems elsewhere, where countless people weren't disturbed by them. From the officer's dialogue with them, I was one of three people who called them in.
The only thing that doesn't fit into all this is the absence of barking. There are two dogs that live in the apt below mine, and they bark all the friggen time. There's another dog in an apt caddy corner from mine who joins in regularly. None of these dogs barked. Along with this, I know there's a woman (not Mindy) who lives with Jack, and I'm pretty sure there's a man, too. I think, in fact, that Jack is the 20-something son who lives with parents. But last night, it was as though the parents had taken the dogs and gone on a weekend vacation. (Only they're back and barking now, and have been most of today.)
Truly odd.
I ought to stop procrastinating. I have a lesson plan to finish crafting, a lunch to make for tomorrow, and something like 10 chapters of Genesis to analyze in the style of Groves and Jung.
Love and Peace
posted by Rehkmira @ 22:15
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home