Throwback Thursday

Last night at choir practice we were learning a new piece with a pretty low alto part. I was singing along, when suddenly I heard my mother's voice come out of my mouth. She didn't sing often - she had no confidence in her singing ability - but when she did sing, her voice was low and mellow. Made me smile. Made me miss her all over again. 

Que sera sera Momcat, que sera sera...

1111

I have a great job that I enjoy. I don’t even mind my commute most days. But lately I’ve just been feeling beaten down by life. And I have a good life! But this morning, as I was fighting the alarm for the umpteenth time (I am not a morning person!) I started wondering – how long have I been living counter to my body clock?

I’ve been working a 9ish to 5ish job on a regular basis since January 1991. I’d of course had jobs before then, but either they were in Africa (that wasn’t a job – it was an adventure!), or worked around my school schedule. So 1991 was my first real job. Of course, I had to do the math. That’s 1111 weeks of working (not counting holidays & vacations).

I’m thinking of the “good old days” when a person (usually a man) put in his 30 & retired. I’ve got 9 more years to go for my 30 – but I won’t be retiring. For one thing, I haven’t been at the same place for all those years. I just had my 10th anniversary at my current company – that’s the longest I’ve ever worked anywhere.

Oh it all just makes me too tired to think. Last night I thought – I don’t really want to win the lottery this week – it would just be too much to mess with. Maybe next week. Now that’s tired.

So I’m thinking that, since my job & my life are actually pretty swell & stress free, perhaps it’s those ole’ devil hormones talking. Can somebody tell me again when I get to be done with that?

I’m too tired to be the Drama Queen. Can I be the Drama Dowager* instead?

*the non-widow variety!

Mawkish

I feel beat down and sad. Consumed by lethargy. Annoyed with myself, God, and any number of other people (the cast list changes on an hourly basis). Um, I mean the “other people” cast list changes. God & I pretty much stay the same.

I’m pretty sure that these feelings are 75% hormonal and 25% disappointment in my own self. I don’t want to go into what’s wrong because I want to wallow & if I tell you guys then you’ll just be all, “it’s ok” and “buck up” & stuff. On the other hand I HATE it when bloggers talk about their feelings but don’t tell what’s going on. Because I’m extremely nosy that way. So, I will whine for just a few minutes & hope that I get it out of my system. And you can be all supportive, but I think I’ll ignore you for a few more days & then come back & read the comments when I’m ready to start feeling better. Ha!

I’ve been singing this hymn every morning in the car for about a year now. I finally worked up the nerve to sing it as a solo at church this past Sunday. I thought it sounded decent during choir practice. But when my big moment came I could barely get a squeak out. Was I nervous? Not really. What happened is that I requested that I sing the solo during communion so people wouldn’t just be sitting in the pews staring at me. So I had communion first & then went to stand by the organ to sing. And the bread was kind of stuck in my throat. I really needed a big sip of water, but there wasn’t any, & I had already started to sing before I realized that I needed to clear my throat.

I was SO disappointed! My Baptist roots are telling me that’s what you get for being prideful. But I don’t think I’m all that prideful about my voice – it’s just really kind of pleasant & I thought the song suited the moment. So I’m having a bit of a theological war inside my head & truth to tell I’m mostly angry at God. What about “open my lips & my mouth shall proclaim your praise” didn’t God get? Hmm?

Obviously, if there’s a next time, I’ll sing during the offering instead of after communion. But I’ve got to get over being mad & humiliated first.

P.S. I always work the The Free Dictionary word match puzzle every morning. In the list of words today was lugubrious, which matched with mawkish. LOL! That’s it! I’m feeling rather mawkish. I’ll let you know when I get over it.

Chill

Yes, this is the ceiling of our bedroom. The other night while I was waiting on Dr. M to finish playing Farmville, I was lying in bed staring up at it thinking about all of our problems. I can't really talk about all of them, and I don't want this post to be a list of "issues" (but if you must know I am about tired of my arthritis, shoulder & tail bone hurting, among other things).

I just wanted to point out that, looking up at the ceiling, thinking about all my many concerns big and small, the spackled ridges appeared to recede so that instead of seeing all these random mountain ranges I was now looking at oddly shaped plateaus. It's a trick of the eyes similar to those 3-D pictures that were all the rage about 20 years ago. And no, there were no "medications" involved (unless you count Kroger Big K Diet Citrus Drop).

The eye trick doesn't happen when I'm staring fixedly at the ceiling. I have to relax my eyes and let them cross & wander a bit. I started thinking about perspective and how these plateaus seemed a little gentler than all those ridges.

And here is my big takeaway from the incident: I should just relax and stop staring so fixedly at my problems. Some of them won't go away if I ignore them, but I don't need to keep my laser focus on them at all times. Just chill every now & then & enjoy the plateau before tackling the mountain again.

Malaise

mal·aise: 
NOUN:

1. A vague feeling of bodily discomfort, as at the beginning of an illness.
2. A general sense of depression or unease.

Yep, that's it. I know I'm a hypochondriac, but I'm pretty sure that malaise describes my condition perfectly. I can think of several causes for this current bout of the blahs – some of which meet both definitions.

1. I've lost my house key again. Shh – don't tell Dr. M. I thought I had fixed the problem with my key ring structure, but apparently not. Sigh. Hopefully it's at work like it was the last time I lost it. UPDATE: My key WAS at the office - someone found it in the parking lot. I've attached it to the car key so that shouldn't happen again.
2. I did not do well on my PYMWYMI challenge (pimwimmy!) today. I know – it's just one day, get back on the horse, or the wagon, or with the program, yada yada yada. I think my problem is that I'm missing the point of Amy's challenge – I am supposed to be grateful that I can do these healthy things and help other people. I'm missing the gratefulness portion of the program.
3. I ordered my first pair of reading glasses on Friday. I discussed that to death here. But I'm actually kind of excited because when I was a kid I would pick out what I thought were cute glasses (it was the 70s people – I worked with what I had) but then they put the coke bottles in & the cuteness disappeared. These lenses shouldn't be as thick should they? I'm hoping… I will certainly post a picture of me reading something in my new glasses.
4. My Magpie poem from Sunday apparently had depths that were too murky for most folks. I was writing about the American Indian addiction to alcohol, as well as my addiction to chocolate. I do tend to expect people to jump into my brain when they read my poems. Yeah, that sounds scary to me too!
5. And last, but not least, I have to go to the dentist tomorrow. I gots a cavity. Yes, I revert to 4 years old when I have to get a filling. I'm not sure I've ever not had a traumatic experience getting a cavity filled – and I have LOTS of metal in my mouth so I have lots of experience with the trauma. I floss. I brush. What is the deal here? Anyway, that sick feeling in the pit of my stomach is me trying not to hyperventilate. I don't have such a phobia that I don't go to my twice yearly exams, but it's a near thing. I'm doing this for YOU Daddy – hope you appreciate it! Heh. Well, & there's that small matter of it hurting when I eat. Hey – maybe this is the answer to Pymwymi! UPDATE: I'm back from the dentist. He had to give me THREE shots before I was sufficiently numb (finding out you're not numb when he starts drilling is NO FUN). But it's done now.

I'm pretty sure that all will be well in about 24 hours. But if you guys could send soothing vibes at around 12:30 tomorrow I would appreciate it.

I'm pretty sure I'm 3, not 4, in this picture, but I think it's exactly how I feel about having a cavity. Heh.

Dark and Fluffy Thoughts

This morning, driving to work, I had rainwashed thoughts that I thought might turn into a poem. Um, no.

Then I read a blog about a person who’s high on life right now (go Anne!) & I thought I might turn my frown upside down. Um. No.

Then I thought, just go ahead & blog about how the rain is making your hip hurt & you just want to whine about it a while. Um – no!
 
So I’m just going to come clean. The whole sky is a cloud that’s drifting out my window – all dark and fluffy and “I’m not letting any blue show through.” It looks, not angry exactly, but discontented. In a snit. It’s the first day this week that has matched my mood. Disgustingly sunny & warm here, up to now. I know exactly where this mood has come from. Hormones. Impending changes at work (not for my job, but for some folks close to me). Hormones. Dissatisfaction with myself. Hormones. The Reds (what’s the word?) slow dismal start. Hormones.

I’m trying to not take myself too seriously. I’ll be back to sunny skies by the weekend. Why I feel better already just dumping my mood on you!

I want to

Last night I was weighted down with sadness. Thank goodness the end of the Ken Burns National Parks documentary was on – I could cry without self-consciousness. I didn’t want to worry Dr. M.

I was sad because I found out that a new Facebook friend, an acquaintance from high school, was struggling with breast cancer. She’s had the disease for 10 years. She says it’s like the whack-a-mole game & just pops up in new places unexpectedly. She’s underinsured because of her 10 year battle, and can’t afford a biopsy of the latest findings.

I was sad because I miss my mother & I can hardly bear to think about her last days.

I was sad because Dr. M’s family is struggling with his mother’s condition - and we’re struggling too.

I was sad because it feels like the people I pray for don’t ever get better.

I was sad because we found out the some of the children who play next door used to live in our house - & someone in the neighborhood complained to the police & they were “run off.” I don’t know what the adults did (or didn’t do) that caused the problem. But I’m sad because the boys lost their home.

And lastly, I was sad because Cluckles the Chicken has gone missing.

Today, with the bright sunshine after pouring rain and storms, I want to say that I feel better. That I think that it’s just my usual fall melancholy. That the tightness in my chest has eased.

I want to.