why old people turn their cars so slowly

I think I am finding out why old people turn their cars so slowly.  If they're anything like me, and they are tearing at the seams, a hard or even moderately fast turn--especially over a jouncing entry point not on the level with the street--changes the vectors or shifts the inertia or some other science-y force-related thing, and it puts pressure on joints that can no longer bear pressure without complaint.  So if you are ever feeling irritated at elderly people taking their sweet time making that turn off the street at 2 miles per hour, have some sympathy for the irritation their joints feel even at that slow crawl.

a second tear is diagnosed

.
I did not expect this
gradual tearing like
some delicate
piece of lace or
late autumn leaves
or the wings of
butterflies and
moths
.

practice makes perfect

.

maybe life is practice letting go
because there's nothing
you can hold on to when you leave

.

March waltz

ice forming on puddles of meltwater as the shade
stretches out as the sun goes down

spiky points of crystal scabbing over
slowly

finally rest

.

Between the emergency 

sirens, the night is silent 

as snow falls with 

single-minded intent:

to cover everything 

and then finally 

rest.

.

this picture

I'm only sorry I cannot take
and share this picture

of tree top frosted
in snow and light

framed in the office window.

snow is magic

.

I will know I am too old 

the day snow stops 

seeming magical to me.

.

Winter Wound

The tree outside the corner of the building, trapped in an acute angle of ugly 80s architecture, was thriving.  I admired the close-up view of its limbs in all seasons, this most recent season spread with snow.  It must have been too close for some because one day I passed and saw the bright, raw wounds of hacked-off limbs now more distant than before and fully bereft of snow.  And I told myself I couldn't start crying in the hallway at work even if I felt like someone had just callously and with business-like efficiency taken a knife to a friend of mine.  It must have been scratching the glass or pounding on it right next to that lady in the corner's ear. It wasn't like they'd cut us on purpose, fully knowing.  They probably didn't even think of it, didn't see it that way, didn't know how much it would hurt us.  They didn't know, I told myself, wiped my eyes, sniffed, and started limping a little more slowly to my next meeting.

driving in a winter wonderland . . .

when it comes to driving
walking in a winter wonderland
is better

not quite a snowpocalypse

branches recoil
blobs of snow plop
I watch from the window
and turn on the Christmas lights
again

wind advisory

wind rattles the vents
temperature sinking fast
trees whip in the gusts

tonight I pray
for those outside tonight
may you find warmth

Isn't it too cold for snow?

the sky is that eerie dark
red-purple like the bruise on
a badly sprained ankle,

it is snowing that huge,
clumpy, plastic, synthetic,
fake-looking snow like
that diorama of Canada
I did with spray globbed
on and looking terrible

but sparkling like
diamonds chips
in the right light

winter wonderland

.
sky bruised purple gray
snow gilding trees and branches
winter wonderland
.

Trending Now

#10
chronic pain
happy holidays

When the truth hurts

Safety is a lie
we tell ourselves
to sleep at night
and to get out of
bed in the morning.
Like most self-
deceptions, it hurts us
when it shatters and
lets out the truth.

wind and snow

wind rises
snow tumbles off branch
silent snap

"The Lady of Shalott" by William Holman Hunt

"I am half sick of shadows," said
            The Lady of Shalott. 

-Alfred, Lord Tennyson

I am glad it is December,
that the awful November
picture on my calendar has
flipped, that December's picture
is one I have seen in person.

Few calendar prints can capture
a painting, so while I am glad
the November goats are gone, I long
for the real thing whole
and complete and beautiful.

But this is a lie because
I love this smaller test
painting by the master's
own hand since he was
mostly blind by then and
couldn't paint the full
canvas himself.

I prefer this panel
because I remember
how the unraveling
threads in it sliced
through the picture, so
sharp the air between us
was nearly bleeding.

January thaw

the wind

sweeps leaves

into neat piles

in corners

Winter Walking Wisdom

1
At times when there is
no way around the shadows
walk through them quickly

2
When there is no way
around shadows in your path
walk through them boldly

Minnesota Welcomes Me Back

High of 8 degrees.  Well played, Minnesota.

the shadow of the dance

.

the wind always dances

autumn just helps us

see the shadow of the dance

.

The Japanese Garden in Winter

.
outside fence geese honk
grey-blue lake and sky shiver
fake swan smiles alone
.

ricochet

Dizzy from the autumnal "oil change"
in my sinuses and exhausted from days
of added side-effect insomnia, I
ricochet around my small apartment
making bruises I will forget how I got
when I (re)discover them tomorrow.

how to change a mind

I have decided to try
to see the alarms as the bell
that signals recess, freedom
from my nightly confinement.
I hope this is a wise change
that will help me get out of
bed tomorrow morning

allergies + insomnia

so tired I'm dizzy
sitting down, scratchy throat
even PancakeSheep is limp

Jeremiah 38-39

This is what
I do not understand
about us: why,

when both paths
are laid out
so clearly,

do we still choose
the wrong path
again?

while Orion sleeps

.

one-eyed cat moon

squints on the horizon

stalking the stars

.

Detox Day 6 Humor

I'm doing a 10 day detox plan that my doctor recommended, and this is day 6.  I'm not really hungry because I'm eating around 1500 calories a day (mostly in apples and pears and related juice along with the "medical food" for days 5-7).  I'm not hungry, and I love apples and pears, but I keep finding myself wanting certain foods.  And I found myself laughing at this fun bit from a recent post on the blog of an author I like.

Because I swear to God the entire week has gone like this:

Me (sitting down to keyboard): Okay! Time to write something interesting and amusing.

Brain: SHUT UP AND FEED ME.

Me: I totally just fed you fifteen minutes ago. We had a fruit snack.

Brain: FRUIT SNACK NOT REAL FOOD. IT’S HUMILIATED GELATIN.

Me: Look, Brain, I have work to do.

Brain: NO FOOD NO BRAIN.

- John Scalzi

 Humiliated gelatin.  Heehee.  I could really go for some pudding . . .

folk wisdom fail

Starve a fever.  Don't exercise
with a fever.  This is what they
say.  But what if you don't know
if the fever is a side effect of the
steroid or related to the cold/flu
you're coming down with now
that you can't get any sleep at all?

side effects math

side effects math says
insomnia + med-insomnia
= insomnia squared

The Day of the Layoff (3)

A man going the wrong way in the parking ramp almost hits me, and I snarl in my head about how much it would suck to get hit by some jerk going the wrong way and then be late to find out if I lose my job.  And then I remind myself again that doing the right thing doesn't magically guarantee you safety and happiness.  I should know this by now.  (I should know this BY NOW.)  So why does every reminder that I live in a fallen world feel like a kick in the heart?

the layoff

The rain falls
on the just and
the unjust.

Selah.

on the morning of the layoff

on the way to work
a heron launches itself
past my windshield

in this morning darkness
I can't tell if it's blue or grey
and it doesn't matter

early October

Some of the falling leaves are slightly soft and supple to the touch.  They hardly crunch at all, still mostly alive.  Perhaps they choose to die young and make a prettier corpse?  I don't understand.  They'll all end up as dust in the wind anyway, so why not hang on 'til there's no life left?

Ibuprofen/weakness

Every time I reach

for the bottle I despise

myself a little.

the doctor told me I needed to wear sandals indoors

At first, all I could see was the floral pattern.  Beloved of all the old ladies at the orthopedic shoe store, it seemed unbearably ugly to me.  But it was the only clearance pair that fit without irritating my foot crush injury.  Besides, I was only going to wear them inside, so the hideous flowers wouldn't be viewed in public.

In the darkness of my home, the flowers were invisible, and I started seeing the shape.  They have dark, unusual lines that are solid yet graceful, despite the size of my feet.  The shoes are named after butterflies, but they don't look like butterflies. They also are not as ugly as I thought they were.

right brain, left brain

I am at an awkward part of the pain spiral.  My left arm started going numb, so I shifted to carrying the heavier things on the right shoulder, but then that old subluxing injury started to flare up with intent.  Then I have to use the left arm, but then it starts to warm me that this is treatment up with which it will not put, and I am impaled on the horns of a dilemma.  I think I just need to learn telekinesis, so I can use my mind to lift things.  As long as I make sure to evenly use both the right and the left brain, I'm sure it will all work out.

it took me two days to notice

so tired that
I forgot to cut one
fingernail

quotes out of context

from Jeremiah 30:12-13 to OWCP
 
"Your wound is incurable,
And your injury is serious.
"There is no one to plead your cause;
No healing for your sore,
No recovery for you."

Yep.  My sense of melodrama is still doing just fine though, thanks for asking.  Reading Jeremiah makes me lean toward drama.  Being a prophet was never precisely easy, but wow, did he have a crappy time of it . . .

that day in August

yesterday
was a perfect day
for rainbows

Lies my fortune cookies told me

You are strong
and sensitive.
                                                    (possibly in a parallel universe)

You believe in
the fundamental goodness
of people.
                                                    (only in dreams, fortune cookie)

Others recognize
your sweet nature.
                                                    (when they see it hiding at its
                                                     vacation home in Switzerland)
You have an excellent
capacity for making people feel
at home.
                                                    (if said people normally make
                                                     their homes alone in
                                                     claustrophobia-inducing,
                                                     book-lined caves, not that I
                                                     could possibly judge them
                                                     for that)

not really one of my better days, but the pain is having a ball

Today it has felt as if some small creature with dull but strong teeth has been hanging from and gnawing on part of my left arm.

I am sleeping even less than average, and the night was very long when I watched it nearly all the way through until the light returned.

My right hip is throbbing like some caged creature needs to escape from it, and sitting up for hours at a time is more of a challenge than it should be for someone my age.

A tiny, invisible, serrated worm pokes at my right wrist and sometimes wraps itself around and goes into spasms--probably of joy and affection.  If so, I'm glad someone is having a good time here.  I just wish it were me.

Nothing gold really goes away

to Robert Frost

Nature's last green is gold
a thousand shades of red
orange purple and brown
ground up finely by wind
covered and hidden just
while winter wins until
Nature's first green comes back.
Nothing gold really goes away.

another split lip

when it is this dry

I need to remember not

to smile suddenly

Well, that's a problem, fortune cookie

Listen carefully.
An upcoming important
message may be subtle.

another reason I love autumn

Maybe a reason I love autumn
is because the world around me
starts breaking down, falling,

dragging, breaking apart
before winter comes to
finish the job,  and I

have been breaking
down since I

was 10.

the first maple tree

The first maple tree has ignited
soon the others will bow
to peer pressure and immolate
themselves and cover the sidewalks
in confetti that will grind itself
 away in
the wind
into ashes
and dust
and winter
will come to hide it all away.

the times I am most angry at OWCP are like this

• I'm trying to sing Brahms German Requiem, and my arm hurts insistently and keeps distracting me.  It hurts even worse 30 pages in from the simple act of holding the music and turning each page.  
• I want to help my friend who just had twins get some alone time with her husband, but I can't because holding even tiny babies and changing diapers will cause me agony later, so all I can do is come and help hold the babies while they are still small and sing to them since they don't mind that it is so hard for me to actually learn an entire lullaby anymore.  
• I have a great idea, and the muse is demanding that I sit and write it down right now before it gets bored and goes away, but I can't because my arm hurts, and things are busy at work, and I can't afford to irritate my arm any more, or I won't be able to function at work, and I have to function at work because I need to keep this job, so I can have insurance and because it's hard to find jobs that I am capable of doing anymore.  And so I don't write, and that hurts, too.

spring haiku

cherry trees are like
family you only get
to see once a year

the prayer

Dear God, please
be with my sister
wrap her in Your arms
let her feel Your love for her

oh God please don't let her lose another baby oh please oh please oh please oh please oh please oh please oh please oh please oh please

contrary haiku

when the forecast says
0% chance of rain
I want nothing more

commiseration

the tree in the corner
is rusting away

not turning fall colors
just getting brown-splotched and
ragged around the edges

when I pass it

I sigh in commiseration

Today's beauty

Today's beauty is brought to you
by the blue heron
with the impossible wingspan
that took off from my side
of the channel and cleared
the tree trunk blocking the waterway
in only three wing beats.

my battery is drained

Today's exhaustion is brought to you by the car battery.  Last summer when it kept dying, I took it in, and they said there was nothing wrong with the battery or the alternator.  And then it behaved itself.  Until a couple of weeks ago.  And then today.  When it ceased working 3 times.  Good thing I didn't have to be anywhere until 3.  Since I couldn't get there until 4 . . .  And my groceries are probably spoiled now (though I didn't open them just in case they're okay).  But at least I could get a loaner car today instead of having to get the dumb thing jumped two more times today and then at 6:30 tomorrow morning.

Dear Hyundai,

Your customer service people are quite nice.  Your emergency roadside support people are also quite nice.  My experience with your cars is, well, not.

• Tires that die after less than 4 years (my last car's tires were still going strong at 6+ years).  
• A battery that dies every summer.  
• Maintenance costs I was told would be covered by the warranty that aren't.

I don't think I'll be a repeat customer.  Raaaaaaaaarrrr.

Signed,
Me

Siiiiiighhhhhhh.

an encouragement to kids going back to school

Your dreams are not guaranteed to come true.  You do not have unlimited potential and all that crap.  You have limited time and potential.  But unless you have dreams and pursue them, you will never know if you can make them come true.  So it's better to have dreams and try hard to make them come true than to deny yourself and automatically fail by eliminating even the chance of success.  Probably.  : )

The trouble with nature

So.  Bugs.  Summer.  I understand that the poor things don't get to move much for about half of the year, so I understand why they would just want to crawl all over the place when they can, but why do they like crawling all over me so much? 

When I can, I bike to a park with my blanket, notebook, and books.  I spread out the blanket and plop myself down and immediately become the Most Engrossing Thing Ever to the insects and arachnids in the area.  These guys love me.  They can't get enough of me.  It's kind of crazymaking.

I imagine this is what would happen if I went to a cat show.  I am very allergic to cats, and they just love me!  I don't make eye contact and, a cat-lover explained that I am mysterious and interesting to them. 

Perhaps I need to practice making eye contact with insects and arachnids.  Do I have to make contact with all their eyes?  That could be . . . difficult. 

I just want to enjoy nature, listen to the wind and the birds, read my book, be a sun camel, try not to smell the nearly stagnant river water, avoid getting hit in the head by those kids and their soccer ball, and relax.  I want to commune with nature, dagnabbit! 

Unfortunately, nature feels the same way.  And so we commune: nature walking all over me, me swatting nature or brushing it off without killing it.  It is not exactly relaxing, but there is definitely communing.  Sigh . . . 

Sometimes, when the book is really good, I don't even notice.

I can still smell it

I wonder if the smell of the lilacs still hangs in that yard or if it's only the memory so strong that makes me think it's still there so long after all the flowers bloomed and died.

Why?

Because today is
forty-six seconds shorter
than yesterday was.

eloquent roadkill

roadkill indicates
today is not a good day
to be a turtle

Is this even legal (haiku)

Thirty days have passed.
When will they (ever) finally
run out of fireworks?

young and grey

I am moving much less
like a woman of 60
these days (except for
the left arm, hip, and
lower back), but the silver
is taking over my hair
that much faster.  An 

odd tradeoff, but not 

unwelcome, I suppose.

.

the impossible dream

to OWCP with bitterness

I wake up
in the morning,
and I feel rested. 

I get up
and go
about my day,

and I
am not
in pain.

another chiropractic haiku

What do you say when
your chiropractor asks
if you do stand-up?

.

the view today

one set of windows
shows a sky mostly cloudy

while another shows sun
and blue sky I guess

today I get to choose

loving the darkness

.
I don't want to turn
on the lights because 
it will be harder
to see the rain
.

dead lilacs

The thing about lilacs
is that after they're dead
they still smell like heaven
for some time

another about butterflies

.
butterflies explode
like tiny silent land mines
on the bike trail

.

What I wanted to do that day

What I want to do is huddle on the couch watching the wind whip through the cottonwoods listening to the sound of the leaves and the rain drizzling down, just existing, not trying to distract myself from the pain or discomfort or the fever, not trying to accomplish anything, letting my thoughts drift instead of constantly yanking them back on course of necessity.  I want to watch the clouds move past in ragged layers in the sky and see if the sun will ever come out today.

Give me a warning, I beg you

Is it wrong of me to wish
you hadn't posted the picture
of your dead baby dressed
like a doll in the gift another
friend made for you?

Is it weak of me to wish I hadn't
seen that deformed face and
the blue splotchy body because
he never quite managed to take
his first (and last) breath?

at least the license plate is laughing

.

sometimes what
you need to
make it through
is to follow
a car with the
license plate
TEE HEE
to work

.

After the latest hearing

Is it good
I didn't cry?

A sign of maturity
and self-possession

or just a sign of
giving up?

when the trees are greener

the way the trees are greener
in a spring storm with rain but no wind
water soaking the trunks and making
then darker like the lead-grey sky
making the world glow
a bright and luminous green

What you call beautiful

What you call beautiful

How could such
perfect feet so
perfectly formed

be dead before
you took a breath?
What does it feel like to dress

your dead baby for a picture
to remember it by, blue and hideously
deformed and never quite alive

and what am I supposed to do
and to feel as I look at this child
you call beautiful?

On a windless day

When you look
at the heart of a cloud
it looks big and solid
and you can't see any
movement but if
you look at the edges
for long enough
I promise
there is movement.

A beautiful problem

On the walk back
through the parking
lots, I felt like I was

constantly
                 dodging

butterflies
apparently drunk
on sunlight, humidity, and heat.

mostly flat

like a crumpled piece of paper
left under the bed for years
found and straightened and smoothed
but curling up again along all its
many creases eventually
with the help of flat, heavy objects,
it may be persuaded to lie mostly flat
but the creases will always show

The mistake I made yesterday

The mistake I made
was to wave goodbye to a
friend with my left hand.

When the crooked become straight

I stumble more off-balance,
off-kilter because I have
been forced on-kilter for the first
time in years.  Because I've been
straightened, I feel more crooked
and uncomfortable like an amnesiac
trying to live a life I don't remember
as my own.

how should I pray

Now that

• you are freed from this burden you never asked for,
• you are bereft of the doomed life within you,
• I can't pray for a miracle anymore,

how should I pray for you?

happy birthday, dead baby

.
no more chances
for a miracle

just separation

grief 

and so much pain

.

the waiting (10)

It's hard
for me to wait
for the birth
and death
announcement;

I cannot
imagine how
hard it is
for you.

Soon
the waiting
will end.

Blooming hard

.
hard to drive inside
the lines with trees exploding

like silent fireworks

.

The end is nigh

The due date is near.  It's no longer mother's day but May 16th.  Three more days +14 before they induce.  I cannot imagine what it must be like.

Recently, my friend said, "He's definitely running out of space in there, so we'll see how long he stays."  I wanted to just break down.  What a tension she must be wrestling with: The clash of wanting every minute with this life, no matter how doomed, and the desire to be delivered (a word that never seemed more appropriate).  The day of his birth will be the day of his death, so she wants as much time with him as she can get.  But the discomfort grows daily, the burden of bringing a death into the world, as Cordelia said in Barrayar (only more literally in this case). 

The pain won't end, though, with the birth-and-death.  And the mourning won't begin at that moment.  It began long ago when they heard the truth about their baby.  Oh, friends, I weep for you, but there's nothing I can really do to easy your suffering.

There are kids outside riding bikes in the rain, and my heart breaks again along the same fault lines.  Oh, God.

as long as you believe

chiropractor visit two resulted in
pain and less sleep as my body tried
to relax and curl up in its usual ways

and failed most miserably because bones
and joints were properly aligned for the first time

in years, but only once did I wake
in actual terrifying minor agony; after that,
I was on my back all night, twitching

or gasping myself awake when I did
fall asleep (I was recently tested
and found not to have the twitchy leg

thing or sleep apnea).  Pain today
like bands of fire and joints wrapped
in flaming compresses, headaches on

and off and on.  Still I choose to believe
this is pain like the pain of the caterpillar
turning to goop, so it can become

a butterfly, as Miles once said
--maybe in the Warrior's Apprentice, probably
when he was hustling a crowd of unbelievers--

or as I more practically phrased it
to the chiropractor in my head,

"As long as you believe
this will lead to healing,
I will believe in you."

like origami

My first chiropractor folds me
like origami, and my joints are
not his biggest fans.  He promised
not to turn me into a puddle, and he
is true to his word thus far, but
he says there should never be more
than mild discomfort, and this is a problem
because it's rare for there to be less
than mild discomfort at all times
even when he is not creasing me
into a crane.  Can the crane say to the folder,
"Why did you make me this way?"  Here's
hoping I don't need a thousand visits
to get my wish to come true.  I can't possibly
afford that. 

Why I like exits more than entrances

.
There are bars
I can push
with a shoulder
or a leg  
           no handles
or knobs to grasp
twist pull struggle
with fail to open
cleanly
.

the birds outside

.
the fridge is making
disturbingly human noises,
groans like a soul in torment 

but the sound
of the birds
outside is louder
.

this kind of blue

.

the sky tonight
so brilliant living
vibrant blue

backdrop seen through 

cutouts of bare 

tree limbs

the kind of blue 

that makes you stop and stand and stare 

for longer than you should without your coat 

because this could be the last time 

you see this exact shade of sky, and you want 

to store its imprint on your eyeballs and in your brain 

in case there is ever a time when you need 

this kind of blue

.

the list of things I should do

.
the list of things I should do

is much longer than the list
of things I have energy to do. 

I suspect that this
is how it will always be. 

I am trying very hard to be okay with that.
.

Christmas concert 2011

.
moments so sublime
akin to sublimation
applied

beauty burning so
bright I transformed
from solid to spirit without
melting and then

water fell

.

good, bad, and . . .

Good news: it will freeze tonight, so I can open my bedroom window and maintain a comfortable temperature in my room without sucking in lots of things I am allergic to.

Bad news: I have no hot water right now.

(Not sure if these things are related.)

(Other) News: A letter from the OWCP came today.  It's for the hearing my lawyer asked for without talking to me.  The hearings are 5 to 9 months behind, a letter announced a while back.  That irritated me because I had sort of decided to try a famous nearby pain clinic, and the thought that I'd have to wait 5-9 months to go because my lawyer did something inexplicable made me a bit irritated.  Thinking positive, I figured that would be plenty of time to collect my thoughts and research and write a magnum opus of a letter that would help the OWCP see the human face and struggle behind my increasingly desperate(ly) irritated letters.

Today's letter says the hearing is scheduled for May.  If this is 5-9 months delay, does that mean they were actually scheduling these hearings retroactively?  (They've sort of done that to me before, actually.)

This means I have about a week to write that magnum opus letter, that triumph of logic and evidence that will show them once and for all that I am not a fraudulent fraudster (the way they seem to be treating me) but a person in pain who is a bit muddled and has been confused, misled, and treated poorly by a bureaucracy not designed to actually, you know, help an injured worker like me get better the way a normal insurance company would.  Theoretically, I work faster under deadlines, but, well, sheesh.

Probably 90 days for a decision after the hearing, and then maybe I'll be able to see the famous pain doctors.  They're probably scheduled at least that far in advance, so that might work out just fine.  I'm trying to make 100% sure they're in my regular insurance network in case these doctors, like the last pain specialist I tried, decide they don't want to follow OWCP's ridiculous and impractical rules, and I end up getting stuck with the bill.

In this week's weird neurological news, apparently my brain is interpreting temperature in my left hand partly as vibration.  Hot is fast vibration, and cold is slow vibration.  Today anyway.  (That's in addition to the more familiar tearing pain in my forearm and wrist and the ache-y time delay in my hand and upper arm and the occasional sensation of having my fingertips dipped in ice water.)

My life is an adventure.  What can I say?  : )

another day chasing sunlight (reading books Saturday morning)

.
another day chasing sunlight across the floor
no one asking for things I can't give
not even me
.

baby pictures

An old acquaintance posted a picture of his friends and their baby with anencephaly during his brief life.  The photo angles were careful not to show the missing parts of the baby's skull and brain, and I cried again for my friend and her husband, and I prayed they would have the chance to take beautiful, heartbreaking pictures like those, and I remembered my sister's baby who she never got to hold, dead before it was born, and I couldn't even cry.

unanticipated snow surprises me when I leave the apartment

.
this is what happens when
you say to the world:
leave me alone just for today
.

how you can tell the wind has been blowing hard

winter trees
like my hair
frosted white silver
only from certain angles

after the winter

This bleeding

heartbreaking
as it is

is a sign
that your body

is still
alive

after the winter.

Daylight Savings Time Stupidness

So on Monday, I sat in my cube in my new area, which has lots of windows up high.  I was staying late, working on some things I had decided I needed to finish.  And the sun was still up.  When the lights went out at their appointed time, I couldn't even tell.  And I had this thought: This is so weird; it's like all of a sudden, the sun is staying up, like, an hour longer.  I was puzzled.  I thought the change was usually more gradual.  And then I remembered.  That I had set the clock at work ahead just that morning.  Because . . .

Oh, Daylight Savings Time, I still hate you.

How long does it usually take you and yours to adjust and be less stupid?

Tree vampire

The trees were seeping from their severed limbs yesterday.  I noticed a puddle on the sidewalk, but everywhere else around was dry, and then I realized the tree above me had been trimmed around power lines.  It's been years since I've seen this happen.  This time, I gave in and put my hand under the stream and then tasted it. 

It wasn't sweet sap.  At first I thought it tasted like nothing, just pure water.  Then I realized that the salt I would normally taste on my skin was totally neutralized.

Today, I saw from the window that the trees were still weeping.  I didn't go out to check if maybe it tasted different today.  It's something I can only do on impulse, apparently, and not deliberately.

Maybe it's spring cleaning for the trees: out with the old water so the new can start circulating.  Or maybe it's more like a tourniquet being removed?

What makes them start and what makes them stop before they bleed out?  I'm sure science has the answer for these questions, but I'd rather just wonder.

a reason to take the bus

the problem with driving when it's windy
and the sun's going down is not

that your car gets buffeted around
making the drive white-knuckled or

that the light blinds you but that you can't
watch the clouds burning their way

across the sky because you are in the driver's
seat and you can't just stare at the clouds

Who knew?

It turns out that watching shows with lots of beautiful pan shots of deserts and mountains, explosions,  giant robots fighting each other, and pilots angsting over their lives is a good way to pass the time while you sort and organize your collection of 9+ years of OWCP injury files.  And playing shows with tons of potty humor and generally inappropriate content can help distract your mind from the rage as you figure out what to scan/bring when you visit the doctor one last time in an attempt to get a code added to your file.  Maybe I should have looked for something with more explosions because my jaw is killing me from when I must have been clenching my teeth while taking notes and marking things with sticky papers.

By this time next year, for better or for worse, pray that this fight is all over.  I don't want to deal with another year of this, even if it means the OWCP wins their game of trying to make injured workers give up on ever getting any real help and justice.  Just crush all my hope to atomic base components once and for all if it means I can be done with all this.  As I've mentioned before, hope springing eternal gets more head injuries from low ceilings than docile despair.

Miles once said, "I'm tired
of playing wall."  Me too, boy.
Me, too.