This time the song has nothing to do with me. I mean in the immediate sense, I didn’t mull it over, it wasn’t stuck in my head, no worms, aural or otherwise. Over coffee this morning the conversation drifted, as it often does, towards my mom’s adventures in facebookland. We’d been gossiping about employment and nieces/granddaughters, respectively, them being the same depending on ones relation. Wait, no, one of them is my daughter. The topic of working in the field came up and my mom said the LA neice/granddaughter said something funny; Twenty Years of schooling and they put you on the day shift.
The poor old lady was assaulted by the dawg stylings of the above song. She laughed, she cried, it was an Old Yeller moment.
My niece from Montana has been here for a almost a week. Yesterday she visited with two year old and 65 year old in tow. It’s difficult to get a word in edgewise let alone head on even when my mouth is working proper. I guess among other things she’s looking for a job locally. I can’t imagine. I guess most of my objections are just opinion, one of them is a hybrid of opinion and social work, not just the ethical kind but the legal kind too. The strongest opinion is ‘Why leave Montana, shit, I mean fuck, it’s big sky country’. That’s strongly inside the circle of opinion.
The social worker one (skipping ahead through opinions great and small) she isn’t divorced and the dad lives in Montana. The legal end of that is, if he wanted to, he could get an injunction against her moving pending settlement of marriage and in said settlement one possibility is that she can do whatever she wants, but the kid stays in state. It’s one of the several words I couldn’t get in edgewise. Another had to do with undiagnosed dementia of father/husband/stepbrother/step son. There was a funny little discrepancy of awareness when I got out the sentence ‘perhaps you should take him to a shrink’. I got a cacophony of agreement on that, but only on ‘You’ and ‘shrink’. In the grand scheme of things the universe gave neither shits nor fucks.
Winter went out like a lion, but might come crawling back like a snake. The last two days have been warm, fifties and I think it hit sixty on Friday. But windy, highest gust in high fifties. GF lost power for a day. I mean the house she’s staying in lost electricity, she didn’t lose personal power except the energy that goes into worrying about no light or hot water.
Oh, speaking of You Shrink, I’m seeing my faux shrink for the second time next week. It’s important, we agreed that three times would be enough to figure out whether a there should be a fourth or not. Like I imagine he is, I’m as yet undecided. I am glad I gave it two weeks for my mouth. I wasn’t in any shape to talk about anything but my mouth last week.
I’ve been trying really hard to write a piece of fiction. Hmmm, that could be misconstrued. To my way of thinking if you just want to write fiction the only way of trying really hard is to put words to paper/screen. I’ve been working a particular piece in my head. The idea of writing daily to make it easier to write when you have something to say might not be as good as I thought it was. The poor piece of fiction keeps wanting to be silly/clever dialogue, because that’s my go to when I just sit down and write, at least when I do for prosebox. Before digital journals I would just write something and if it looked like it should have an audience I’d give it an audience, if it didn’t I wouldn’t. Liberating in a way, restrictive in another.
It’s not a bad thing to develop and maintain habits as long as you don’t allow the habits to be boundaries. I’m not sure that’s what’s happening, but I’m not sure that it’s not either. It’s entirely possible that the idea I’ve been thinking about is just silly/clever dialogue. In any case the world will not have lost an important piece of something if it’s never written. I’d be concerned about my damage to my brain, but, heh, who am I fooling? Pre-existing condition. I’m sort of fond of the twisty way my brain works and a tad shocked at the frequency at which that crazy curl of gray matter is the voice of reason. I want to shout when I’m accused of rationality “I’m just making this shit up!”
Ok, that’s probably it.
Loading comments...