More than meets the eye.
“Freedom is the right of all sentient beings.” - Optimus Prime
Long week that keeps dragging, it is. To prevent further undue stress, I’m typing this post in OpenOffice with plans to cut and paste in a few minutes when I virtually pass out from exhaustion. Doing my boss’s job while he’s on sabbatical isn’t as intense as I’d built it up to be… it’s doing his job on top of my job that has been challenging. My Exchange calendar looks like someone shot it with multicolored paintballs from a fully automatic rifle. My cell phone battery won’t make it through a single business day. I know I have my finger on the pulse of every little thing and I’m on top of it, but at night, when I try to wind down for some recharge, I feel like something slipped through the cracks. I went back to the gym yesterday. I’ve been trying to motivate a friend of mine to get in shape, so I thought setting a good fitness example would be as good an excuse as any for me to pay the sweat factory a visit. My back is in knots and I need a massage. Outside of juggling at the office, I haven’t done much. I went to see Transformers tonight and really enjoyed it. I shipped a package overseas this afternoon and was floored by the price gouging on international parcel delivery. I’m in the wrong business. I had plans to head to the coast this weekend for some sand between the toes, but remembered it was Barrett’s girlfriend’s birthday and I’d pseudo-RSVP’d previously. I’m looking forward to the weekend downtime. Trying to sleep through Yorkie kisses after late night libations with friends. I had a moment today. A few months ago, my friend and neighbor, Sam, invited me over for a backyard bar-b-que. His family was hosting some other folks as well… one being a coworker, his wife, and two children. The man I’d met before on a few occasions (all in a business environment), but the wife and kids were new to me. One of the two children, a small boy, was autistic, but other than that, they were a very normal, happy, loving family of near spot on the 1.9 kids per family average in Texas (or whatever it’s become since the last time that useless knowledge invaded my brain with Superglue). A few days back, this mother of two was apparently playing with the kids at the playground and scratched her leg on the slide. The scratch got infected and she went to the doctor. The doctor (unknowingly mis-)diagnosed the infection as some normal plain-Jane playground dirt infection and not the ravenous staff it would and sent her home. 24 hours later, yesterday, she was dead. I don’t know how the doctor misdiagnosed such a thing, nor do I know how her rapidly declining condition was met with helplessness at the hospital. I do know that the beautiful family unit I met a couple of months ago is no more… a father of two (one with special needs) with a full time career is now a widower single dad that has to figure it all out without his mate. So back to the moment… Today, when I heard the news that his wife died just yesterday, for just a brief moment, I was completely vacant. Nothing. Like… “and what? So, you want a cookie? Shit happens.” /sigh It didn’t last long and I soon felt his pain as if it were my own. I felt my own pain ebb back from the numb little pocket I put it in when I have to deal with RealLife™ like work or other humans. I know. I’ve survived that moment… even if barely. I’ve become acutely aware of our fragile mortality over the last year and some change. Without conscious effort, I pay close attention to all sorts of human conditions that were white noise in the ambiance before that day. Interesting vignette along a voyage of self discovery, if nothing but a moment. My brain skips tracks on vinyl when I grow weary. Annoying to read, but quite delightful to type… like blogging with ADD.... so as I was saying… look! Oooh, shiiiiiney.
“No, no, no, no! Come, let’s away to prison:
We two alone will sing like birds i’ the cage:
When thou dost ask me blessing, I’ll kneel down,
And ask of thee forgiveness: so we’ll live,
And pray, and sing, and tell old tales, and laugh
At gilded butterflies, and hear poor rogues
Talk of court news; and we’ll talk with them too,
Who loses and who wins; who’s in, who’s out;
And take upon’s the mystery of things,
As if we were God’s spies: and we’ll wear out,
In a wall’d prison, packs and sects of great ones,
That ebb and flow by the moon.” - King Lear
Niters.
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