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.

Did I ever post this? Because it's a couple years old . . .

I was so proud of myself.  When I left to go visit my family over the holidays, I dropped off a notice that my chronically-clogging drain was clogged again.  This time, I remembered to put away all laundry that was hanging on the rack on the back of my bathroom door.  This way, I did not have to return to my apartment and be mortified when I picked up the note the plumbing man left to say that he'd been there and fixed it and then realized that he had had to walk past all my bras to get into the tiny bathroom. 

Sometimes it's the little triumphs in life that make us happy.

tomorrow will be brilliant

.
water with an identity crisis
not sure if it's rain or snow
staggering and stumbling
sideways coating everything

a sound like glass falling
from the sky and bouncing
collecting on top of my hood
rhythm making me sleepy

icicles like grass   growing   down
from power lines and fences
every straight-ish line developing
sudden upper teeth the wind gnashes

gleaming trees promise
even if tonight is miserable
and unbearable tomorrow
will be brilliant
.

Invitation to care

There's more, but that's
what my friend's email subject
was condensed down
to on the screen,
and it was true.

If I sign up for
automatic updates
I will learn about
the progress of their
brainless baby.

I will get
to tick down
the days
until it is born
and dies.

Obviously I
should accept this
invitation to care, but
I don't know
if I can bear to.

Fortune Cookie, what are you trying to say?

"Good things come
in invisible packages.
You will be delighted."

What does this mean?  And does it sound slightly sinister to anyone else?

today we learned

Today we learned
that you should pray
I am not
the only one
near you

who knows hands-only CPR
if you need it.  I can last two
compressions before the pain
in my hands is too much. 

I would like to believe
the adrenalin would
let me keep going
despite the pain.  If
not, I will try
to get very good

at explaining
to strong people
with working wrists
how to do it, and we
can both help try
to save your life.

Wrestling the Sandman and other distractions

Slowly, oh so slowly, I have been edging back my getting in to bed time and getting out of bed time.  Now that I am not responding to student emails for three hours every night, I can once again try to tackle the sleep dilemma.  I don't sleep well (years of chronic pain mess with all aspects of your life), and I've been told that we've done all we can messing with all the sleep-related side of things.  The only way for it to get better is if we address the pain/neurological side of things.  Since that's not going well, I'm trying to find a balance between ruthless adherence to keeping the time in bed short (6 hours) to encourage my body to be efficient with its time in bed and just giving in to my body's exhausted demand for more time not doing anything (sometimes 12 hours).

If I only allow myself 6-7 hours of time in bed, I am a bit more clear-headed, but I am also very short-tempered.  If I let myself stay in bed as long as my body appears to want (10-12 hours), I am much more mellow but also much more muddled.  I'm shooting for somewhere in the neighborhood of 8 1/2-9 hours in bed since then I won't feel like I'm wasting all sorts of extra time trying to recharge batteries that won't charge, but I also won't feel like I'm demanding silly things from my already overworked body.

It's not easy, but I have been making progress the past week, at the expense of everything else.  I think I've spent too much time trying to do everything at once with a brain that shorts out when it only has one thing to do.  I'm going to try to tackle things one at a time and really put my foot down about that one thing.  Other things will suffer, and that will be okay.  Really.  My to do list does not contain anything that will cause world-wide problems if I fail to do it this week.  Priorities.

Willpower, go!

Watching Amadeus

.

Today I would not 

let myself cry about 

the newest wrinkle in 

the old cursed saga 

of OWCP, but 

when Mozart died, 

I cried and cried 

and didn't even 

try to stop myself

until after the last notes

of the mass had ended.

.

a reason to love mild winters

.
96% humidity
transmuted overnight
to fairy-frosted trees of white
.

Today I say to my fortune cookie

.

Today my fortune cookie

wisely says,

"Accept something

that you cannot change,

and you will

feel better."

Today I say to my 

fortune cookie,

"Bite me."

.

One of those days

.

when you don't even realize 

you've been wearing 

an article of clothing 

inside out 

until 4:30 pm.

.

The joy of moving cubicles

Oh, the joy of moving cubicles!  Packing things up, sorting through things, rediscovering things, throwing things away, recycling things, putting things in new places where this time, for sure, you are going to remember where they are really.  Arranging things so that from the point of view of people passing by, you look clean and organized (as long as you don't leave the overhead bin with all your plushies open).  There's something refreshing about doing this (and not just because I am leaving behind my old place next to the Noisy Neighbor.

Do you feel this sense of shedding old skin and donning new when you move desks/offices/cubicles?

Christmas lights from above

I don't remember the last time I flew at night just before Christmas.  I think I would remember the lights.  Instead of just the usual narrow range of city light colors that mostly wash out to a slightly yellow pale, the Christmas lights shine forth in slightly anarchic joy.  Random colors, random shapes not arranged to be seen from above: they are beautiful, and I love them and the chance I had to see them when the night flights were as cheap as the usually cheapest 5 AM flights I've taken the last several years on the way to see my family over Christmas.