i miss going to the gym. i miss the life of waking to workout, of getting up and shaking up the day, i miss writing and the germination of an idea into a poem or a chapter or a lyric or a concept to be absorbed into the body politic of Youngstown Organix. i do miss it. i miss my king sized bed, i miss my stove and my iron skillet. i miss my coffee pot. i miss baths.
but i have the honor of being able to see to my parent's well being. i have had my mom make me breakfast during my down days, i've had my dad try to make sure i had what i needed in the basement concerning this job. he doesn't really get the 'work-at-home' premise, and that's cool, because not many would, not many do. of a certain generation, work is getting up and grooming specifically and putting on the uniform and traveling and punching a clock and doing specific chores for a specified time, and then going home to eat and sort of meld into the family dynamic, to rise the next day and do it all again. for me to go to the basement, boot up the hard drive, log into my systems, put on the headset and say my greeting and resolve problems for strangers, it's like sci-fi to him. yet, that's sort of what he did at the end of his active career. but that's more conjectural than anything.
today i got up, hurting like a motherfucker. really, nothing new about that. i said a prayer, got into some clothes, got shakily to my feet and hobbled my ass down the stairs. i had put on my slip on sneakers rather than my houseshoes, and i think that helped some, as sneakers add stability and keep me from flexing painfully. that, and the 1600 mgs of ibuprofin. whatever the reason, i went to the basement, took my meds, brewed and drank two cups of coffee, made breakfast for my mom and myself. i had taken Syd to catch her bus. i left out a bit later to put air in my tires and gas in my tank. i'd decided on dinner, but i was taking it slow, despite the easing back of the pain. i did call my doctor as well, but he was not in his office today, so no go there. i'd also heard from my pharmacy, meds won't be delivered until tomorrow. so i got to just chill.
i watched television and nodded. yesterday i watched a movie called "Marty", with Ernest Borgnine, it was a sad romantic movie. it reminded me of so much of my life. today it wasn't anything specific. just watching television and napping. i cooked dinner, roasted brussel sprouts, baked potatoes and stove top pot roast. i helped my dad put dirt over the grass seeds he was spreading in his yard, which hurt a bit but was a good thing to do. he's still not been to the emergency room since i've been here. i don't think i'm the reason, but my ego doesn't require that for my spirit to be happy with the fact.
tomorrow i get back to work. Friday, i get my first pay. Sunday i'm taking Syd to get her dress for graduation. this is a strange life, but it is mine. Talked to Rachel briefly. her father's wife died, not her mother, and she seemed to lack comprehension how hearing that someone in her family had a loss that made me sad. but, i can only account for my own level of crazy. never for anyone else's, no matter who they are. Thank you, Father, for your kindness and the blessing of life today.
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