Please Extract #31

There it is, simply written in beautiful cursive handwriting.  Three word groups starkly displayed on a very small white envelope with an even smaller x-ray inside.  "Please extract #31."  For some reason, the very simplicity of the phrase has a much larger impact than its basic visual appearance.  Probably because we are talking about a tooth.  One of mine.

Now, I've had a tooth extracted before.  Knowing what it entails probably makes those three words so very strong.  I think, too, that the word "extract" sounds much more threatening than "pulled."  The word "pulled" implies some cozy, after dinner story about wrapping a string around the tooth in question (whilst very young), and tying the other end around a door knob, rock, toaster, or some kind of object  to pull the offending tooth out so you have something to put under your pillow for the Tooth Fairy.  Money usually being the reward.

Being somewhat older now, the tooth in question needs to be "extracted," usually by a dental surgeon type. [This, of course, does not address those teeth lost to high impact moments usually experienced in fighting, or accidents where the face comes into forcible contact with an immovable object.]

Now, not only does the tooth  need to be extracted by this oral surgeon, but instead of receiving a nice monetary reward for the removal of the offending tooth - for my own good - I am responsible for laying out a hefty chunk of cash.  Where's the Tooth Fairy now???  I'd really like to know, because there seems to be a great imbalance here!  Never mind the visions of being a toothless wonder which dance in my head.

I comfort myself with the fact that the hefty fee going to the oral surgeon is honestly earned.  In some cases, I understand, it can be the struggle of the century to extract certain teeth.  I have found out from the receptionist that my surgeon spends most of his time "extracting" teeth.  So he probably needs the extra cash to pay for his treatments for elbow and shoulder tendinitis.  

I have a lovely vision of the gentleman - in a Popeye-like way - where one arm/shoulder is hugely, over-developed  which he waves around with a pair of pincer-like tongs in his hand.   Happily, I can say that a) the experience hasn't been that bad, and, b) unhappily? (lol) his arms actually look normal.

The event is still to come.  In the meantime, each time I pass the area where that very small white envelope sits, all I can see are the words...."Please Extract #31."

A Taste of "Posh"

A little while ago, I took my car in for one of those complete overall checkups at my car dealership.  (Yes, I am slavishly attached to them - they give me free oil changes.)  As their courtesy ride doesn't extend to another town where I've been doing contract work - for the first time ever, I got a loaner car.  And, oh boy, was that car nice.

You see, despite my expensive tastes and my penchant for indulging my whims in many ways, I long ago decided, albeit reluctantly, that chosing a road vehicle would be sensible choice.  Needless to say, a large part of that was fitting within my means, have a good track record for service and mpg, and....have certain essentials such as music, air conditioning and cup holders. Must have the cup holders!  My requirements are quite simple.  My car, being a 2003 model, fits the bill.  It's so simple in some ways that the windows are still rolled up by hand, and the door locks are all manual.

My loaner car was entirely seductive.  Oy.  It had been explained that all the economy cars were already rented out, but I really wasn't listening.   I was too busy being anxious about getting to work at a reasonable hour.  Then....I was introduced to Black Beauty.  She was - no, not a horse - but a stunning luxury sedan that had at least two feet on my car, and nary a water mark anywhere that I could see upon her gleaming exterior.  The interior was spotless with leather seats, and streamlined everything.  It too me a few minutes to discover where basic necessities (like the cup holders) were hidden.  Everything was electronic and digital. Funnily enough, I felt a low sense of panic as tho' 1) I wasn't old enough to have my parents car, and 2) I really needed to dress up to sit in it.

I did feel very swank in it.  And oh, did I enjoy how responsive the car was to my requests for power.  Wow.  Talk about seductive.  I was master of the turnpike, surging along in the fast lane.  (Think it had a V8 engine versus my 1.4 liter.)  I have to confess at being a little over cautious.  Heaven forbid I get into a fender bender, 'cause it felt a little like driving a boat.  Yes, the car was responsive and powerful, but its sheer size made me feel a bit clumsy with it.  None-the-less, I felt totally, utterly swank as though I was swanning around in something very special for a special occasion.  Not a simple loaner car.  I felt I should have been going to the opera or a concert in the City - not driving to and from work.

That evening, I had further proof that posh luxury sedans are really not for me.  For a total of 18 miles of  driving - I had to return with the gas tank full - it cost $11.00!!!!!!  Outrageous!  So, as you can see, a taste of posh was a delightful visit to the side where the other 1/2 lives.  For now, I'm very happy in my half with my economic, spritely and very responsive beauty.  My car definitely rocks, and doesn't make me nervous.  lol.

Just Today

Low and slow today.

Massive headache kept me pinned to my armchair for hours.
Had a massive paperback to occupy me while I concentrated on not moving my head.
It wasn't enough.
Ate bagel chips and chocolate comfort food while I read.
It wasn't enough.

Finally broke away from my chair to pickup a prescription - my life on meds.

Wasn't until I got a late afternoon latte that I started to recover.
Glorious caffeine!

It's damn near 6:30 p.m. now, and I'm finally perking up a bit,
While the world starts to slow down for a new week.

I need another day.
_______________________

Today was glorious out - warm with a lovely, cooling breeze.
And I saw it go by from my chair inside.
Unable to stir myself beyond the door.
Another day lost in this life.

"Move yourself!" They cry.  "Go out, mingle, find connections, create your life!"
Like the ebb and flow of water, I have fought to do just that - for decades -
seeking those connections that speak, that spark, that love, that laugh.

Only to discover time after time, after time, that some thing is missing.
Some thing I have lost or never had.
The connections never click into place.
They bump and slide away with a slick speed.

And the surge of paralysis threatens to drown me me again.
It overwhelms possibility.
Potential becomes meaningless.
Simple risk becomes life threatening.
Only survival remains as a goad.

Oh wait!  I've got to water the flowers this evening.

Winter Lights

Driving home last night in the dusk I passed a house that had two bushes decorated in white lights.  Then a little further along, through the trees, there was a house that had a great evergreen in its garden with spiraling white lights from the top to the bottom.  Each made me smile.  There were at least four or five more instances of white lights on trees or bushes on my way home.  One, a tiny, tiny tree in the middle of a great mown field with nothing else around it.  There it stood, shining out into the growing darkness.   And you know, even though you could argue that the property owners where just being lazy in leaving their Christmas lights up, I really, really appreciated their friendly lights in the face of the oncoming winter night.  Why?  Simply because they made me smile.  They're no longer holiday lights - but, winter lights. Winter Lights....joyous in their glow....warming my spirit on a winter's night.  

The Comfort of Perspective or Not

Seven months ago, today - if you aren't OCD about number of days in a month - I wrote about being in the crossroads.  And, I also, rather self-judgmentally called myself "dithering" there in those crossroads.  


Over the past 7 months, it has slowly occurred to me that I was being rather an ass in determining my behaviour as "dithering."  Whoosh.  Talk about self-judgment!  Day-um.  No.  I was, and am, simply a soul living life.  Because every moment in every moment of our lives can be construed as a crossroads with a myriad of future possibilities streaming out from each nanosecond.  And, as we change or choose something from moment to moment - so too, do our future possibilities change.  And yes, some possibilities close to us, as well.   There is nothing wrong in that - at all - for any of us.  


It's become eminently clear to me that we all may secretly wish for that one dramatic event to change our lives - while being a little scared of it.  On the other hand, change while constant can be so subtle in our lives that we can be completely oblivious to it until we look back. The last time I wrote here, I was beginning to drown.  Since then, I've managed to surface enough to breathe.  Which I why I'm posting again.  


I have no idea where I'm going or what I'm going to do with my life, or even if I'll live long enough to achieve whatever it is I'm going to do.  Currently, having a temporary job, is providing me with a type of anchor which allows me to even consider a future of possibility.  I have no idea if this will lead to something or if it is simply another checkpoint in the course of one's life.  The best part of the whole thing(?)  is that I'm finally coming to accept that I am not supposed to set the world on fire.  Nor am I responsible for what other people do.  There is a measure of relief there.


Biggest challenge these days is finding ways to accept my self while still maneuvering my way through socially acceptable ways of living and working without judgment for myself or anyone else.  That - and finding ways of keeping a roof over my head, for I'm rather fond of having a place to call "mine."   And.....still, somehow in all that being true to myself.   Was it Shakespeare?  "To thine own self be true."   Man, oh man, that's got to be one of the most deceptively simple sounding challenges of life.  I envy and admire those who seem to have the key.  Then again, what role are we to play in this life?  


Enough philosophy for now.  Let me simply say that you may hear from me more often than every 7 months.  Perspective?  Who knows?  I'm just glad I'm willing to give writing a shot again.  Cheers!