Yesterday was a watershed on so many levels, material and nonmaterial, that today I feel a little lean – it started with two things, a phone call and a drawer. I had on my “to do” list for Saturday to clean out another drawer to make more room for T’s stuff. And before I got off the ground, I woke to the sound of thunder and rain, and it rained and it rained and it rained.
I barely got Loca walked and a friend’s cat to the vet, when I had a series of conversations in which the details were being postponed to another time and what I was getting out of the conversation was an edited down, bullet point version, which was pretty much like reading the Cliff Notes to The Dead – the profundity was being subsumed by the perfunctory.
Like the Tazmanian Devil, I whirled through the house collecting material things that were taking up space and while I packed into 13 huge bags all of the superfluous detritus from my closets, my emotions felt like they were on a tilt a whirl and I started crying my way through the last four bags.
I did not stop crying until I got in bed later that evening. I cried about everything – my friend’s daughter, my on again off again on again separation from my lover, my inability to get to the root of why I was crying [side note: my mother told me day before yesterday that when I was six years old, she asked me one time when I was crying what was wrong and my pathetic response was, “I don’t know what I feel,” – and that pretty much sums up a lifetime of yours truly].
Through it all – there were more phone conversations and more bags to throw things into and by the end of it all, I felt as if 1000 monkeys had jumped off my back and I was ready to face the world again. Leaner, meaner, and cleaner.