Living in an arid climate, we seldom get fog. Today, though, the fog was thick all morning, and late in the day still shrouds the mountains.
I’ve been having a frustrating day— people talking down to me because they are insecure or don’t like what I have to say, misunderstandings— just a challenging day. My computer keyboard can’t keep up with what I’m typing and runs all my words together or misplaces caps and punctuation so I have to correct everything with a time delay. Maddening. As I looked out the window, though, I was struck that the fog is an illusion. The mountains are where they always are, whether I can properly see them or not. The landmarks that orient me are just where they should be.
And so it is with the things in my day. People being patronizing and computer malfunctions— they’re mist obscuring the truths I actually need to deal with.
I have this friend from high school. She’s great— smart, funny, we’ve shared our deep dark secrets, and she’s fabulous in a crisis. Like money in the bank that one.
I’ve known that my mom was unusually short of breath and dizzy for the better part of two years. I’ve known that every time I take her to the emergency room, they are alarmed at her pulse oxygen level. I’ve known that she’s fallen more than once, and that the dizziness is a likely contributing factor. I’ve known that she has smoked for more than 60 years, and that all of these things are probably related.
I like drama to stay on the stage, I really do. I don’t know if it’s that I’m a little moody today or what the problem is, but my tolerance for people who are caught up in their own drama is ebbing.
Apparently, my last post marked both my 500th post and my 1000th like on this blog. I had no idea that I’d been prattling at you all quite to that extent, but it feels like it bears celebrating.
I made a terrible mistake last night— I walked into a one-two punch. We had choir practice, and have been planning to go for pie afterward, as we sometimes do. Just before I walked into the restaurant, I read on Facebook the ravings of one of the horrendous white supremacists from Charlottesville who explained how the death of the 32-year-old victim who was run down by a car was no real loss because single childless women are leeches on society who’ve failed to fulfill their only reasonable function, procreation. Take my word for it if you haven’t read it— it’s not going to help you to read it. I’m pretty angry with the person who cross-posted it, I deliberately did not cross-post it, and I hope you don’t Google it. I’ve given you an accurate rendering of the high points.