A thing happened last night, a thing that to anyone who has spent time dealing with cancer was a big signpost…I have to hope it doesn’t happen again before January 15th, because this is a thing that requires blood work (which I will *go* and *get* after January 15th when I get sick time back)
I hope it’s a side effect…that would mean best case scenario, the *minor* thing that could very well happen is that I’ll have to give up one of the drugs that has kept my existing gut problem under control. And for those who assign me a propensity for drama….
I’m different….I gave that drama thing up in about 2004.
Dammit. Just Dammit
So, I’m between eight and 13 years old….
The Christmas Rule in our house was “No Waking of the Parents for The Opening of Presents Prior to 8:00 am EDT on the 25th.
Generally, even though we didn’t do church, we went to the Basically Protestant (but not evangelical) Christmas Eve thing. Songs, Carols, a sermon about what Christmas really ought to mean..and then candles and home…
And for that one night, there was geniune mystery in the house…lights were dimmed so the tree could show off… Cookies, and eggnog were had by its light….My father, the uapologetic alchoholic would go on to wreck other Christmas Eve’s but he hadn’t started yet (or at least had the courtesy to wait until I was asleep..).. He would read the Nativity story in Luke, and sound like he genuinely gave a d@mm about the journey, the pregnant woman having to bed down in a barn…and the initial WTF reaction the sheperds have, followed by belief, and mystery about this baby.
Then I’d try to go to sleep…and search for my own personal Star…I imagined, even though no one’s theology said this, that the Star reappeared every Christmas Eve…to confirm it was a magical night. I’d always pick the brightest star I could see, assign it the Star’s role…and finally fall asleep…and manage some….
The worst year was when I woke up at two a.m.
And knew there was no way I was going back to sleep. So I read some of my favorites, Robin Hood, and some cool story about the first school for service dogs, and Little Women.
By five am. I was damn sick of reading. So I turned my light off, and went into the living room, missing the creaky floorboard in my bedroom on purpose…to carefully prod at the stocking, assuming I’d be able to make sense out of the bumps and corners, but too scared to actually sneak anything into my bedroom and *look.* Same for the big boxes…I prowled around the corners of the tree, crawling, and examining various boxes, putting them *exactly* back where I found them.
I maybe had a clue about one present after that….but that was all.
I snuck back into my room at six and watched the morning get there.
By 7:45 I simply could not stand it. I *ran* out my door, ran through the middle room and threw open the master bedroom door, and actually leapt onto my parents’ bed successfully, and said. “I can’t *Take* it anymore…I’ve been up since two, can we pleasepleaseplease open *Boxes* Now?????!!!!”
Even then, the Rule held, because Mom insisted that we brush our teeth and put on robes (for the picturetaking of course.)…and she made sure it took how long?
Exactly 15 minutes.
It’s long ago and far away Dad’s gone…Mom’s her own kind of distant…but I’m making the cookies myself this year, and have the same Christmas Music (Eugene Ormandy Conductor of the Philadelphia Orchestra 1959, “The Glorious Sounds of Christmas,” ) and have a Christmas Eve service to attend…
Alone…but not quite alone. Presents scaled down… but not quite gone.
(“The Economy, you know…” .) (Scrooge would be cackling with glee somewhere if he was real)
Because the mystery, as Doctor Seuss has said, can show up without “packages, boxes or bags.”
Have a Cool Yule.
Happy New Year.
And, “Merry Christmas, to all and to all a good night.’
I’m not going to take the low road here. Really.
I’m hearing difficult stories about how to make rent, how to feed children, what do you do when you lose your home?
Those, I truly sympathize with, while being unable to help much.
Over and over again, I’m also hearing that losing the job is a huge hit to the self esteem, and I can relate…to a point.
Able persons? Do you want to learn how to get that I-have-no-job-therefore-my-sense-of-self-is-less-than-zero, out of your head? Come and listen to us…
There are a bunch of us, who understand our worth begins with the simple fact that we exist and is-not-diminished by inability to hold down a conventional job.
Concentrate on finding alternative sources for food and shelter and more essentials for your family. Make *that* your job. Downsize carefully and you’ll find you’ve ditched a lot of clutter that your life didn’t really need.
But don’t hurt yourself further by considering that you-jobless is worth less as a family member, a friend, a human being, than-you-with-a-job.
You’ll come out of the hard times quicker the less time you spend in self recrimination.
Trust us. We know.
In this economy, possibly the dumbest thing any older, female, heavyset,impaired worker can do is…
Call in sick.
They think I have a choice…they think I stayed home because it was ****ing cold yesterday (Hello? Having a garage means rarely having to say you’re frozen.)
My gut has put me in the can’t-leave-the-house stage for two days now…
I was also full of fever last night which is not usual…
If this puts me low on the list…I cannot *help* it.
I’ve actually gotten good enough at this job, that I’d rather go and do it just slightly more than stay at home and blog. My concentration and focus have improved thanks to the summer medication changes…but I may have just signed my walking papers.
Those same meds, yes, are the reason the edge is off my blogging (along with a full schedule), but I figure this is better than some careening emotional nightmare…I’ll stick with the meds.
Fate, the universe, Deity, circumstance…whatever… Even if you cease to eat like clockwork at 4:00 on Sunday afternoon, and have had no large servings of dairy, veggies, citrus, tomato sauce or nuts all weekend, sticking with the foods that don’t bother you…
Random chaos will ensue, and there’s no particular pattern to it. It ensues less *often* but it ensues.
I don’t have control of my ability to achieve the able bodied version of reliability. Period. Life has been telling all of us able or not recently, in various ways that there are more and more things that are out of our control.
I’ve never been good at acceptance of “the way things have to be,” because honestly, half the time that’s nothing but bullsh!t. I always thought that, “No,” there’s a way to push *any* circumstance/task in a different direction to get closer to the outcome *you* want, and further away from the standard response to any roadblock.
Not so. Nope. There are bricks I cannot crack,melt,flamethrow,crush,roll or push out of my own way.
So, you may see me with more time to blog….
To be continued….
The GOP loves foreign companies — outsourcing was it’s first crush, and now, they’ve gone to bat for countries from outside the US against American citizens.
Yes, Republicans hating organized labor makes a twisted kinda sense.
(I don’t like it, but I understand it.)
But they’re not thinking this through. By making the horribly partisan decision to kill GM/Chrysler to dismantle the UAW, they are also proving that they don’t give a *** for all the non union parts manufacturers, tool and dye shops, auto detailers rubber companies, dealerships, and any and all other non union jobs tied into, or related to the US auto industry either.
Yes, the Republicans *don’t care,* if they cause unemployment on a cosmic scale for non union workers, as well as unionized ones.
Open, arrogant direct…
They’d rather shift bucks to foreign companies than keep non union American jobs.
Dear Senate Republicans:
On your own heads be it. Whatever comes next.
My guess is the Michigan UAW will be heading to DC…en masse.