That's what I feel like I have right now--things drift in and out, pinging vaguely, but not a lot sticks. Tonight is my last BodyCombat for at least three months; by this time next week, I'll be out of surgery and possibly even home already, probably feeling like I've been run over with a truck. And...I guess I don't really know how to feel, about any of it.
One "good" thing, certainly, is that I sure won't be in any sort of shape to rack up yet more expenses we can't actually afford, the way I've been doing thus far. Which is why I had to pay Steve/the house back $200.00 out of the absolute tail-end of my emergency savings, because when I get bored and/or scared I tend to grab stuff I don't need and pay for it with money we don't have. But then again, if Steve would just pay the damn bills when he says he'll pay them, there wouldn't have been any money in that account for me to spend recklessly on useless shit, now, would there? Etc.
Otherwise, I'm alternately trying to make my way a bit further through "History's Crust" and thinking about A Rope of Thorns, which has already changed distinctly since the last time I looked at it in any fine detail--as I knew it would, because stuff always does, alchemically, in the journey from sketch to realization. And yet. I worry I'm going to have to bring in lots of new characters. I worry I don't know exactly what to do with the old ones. I know where things "have to" go, but not exactly why. None of this is new, exactly, but it's definitely scarier than usual, because there's just a whole lot more riding on it.
So, yeah: Same old same old, plus Remembrance Day. How's by you?
Amended to add: And speaking of the latter...
STORY OF ISAAC--Leonard Cohen
The door it opened slowly,
my father he came in,
I was nine years old.
And he stood so tall above me,
his blue eyes they were shining
and his voice was very cold.
He said, 'I've had a vision
and you know I'm strong and holy,
I must do what I've been told.'
So he started up the mountain,
I was running, he was walking,
and his axe was made of gold.
Well, the trees they got much smaller,
the lake a lady's mirror,
we stopped to drink some wine.
Then he threw the bottle over.
Broke a minute later
and he put his hand on mine.
Thought I saw an eagle
but it might have been a vulture,
I never could decide.
Then my father built an altar,
he looked once behind his shoulder,
he knew I would not hide.
You who build these altars now
to sacrifice these children,
you must not do it anymore.
A scheme is not a vision
and you never have been tempted
by a demon or a god.
You who stand above them now,
your hatchets blunt and bloody,
you were not there before,
when I lay upon a mountain
and my father's hand was trembling
with the beauty of the word.
And if you call me brother now,
forgive me if I inquire,
'Just according to whose plan?'
When it all comes down to dust
I will kill you if I must,
I will help you if I can.
When it all comes down to dust
I will help you if I must,
I will kill you if I can.
And mercy on our uniform,
man of peace or man of war,
the peacock spreads his fan.
Current Music: "night of the lotus eaters", nick cave