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sublingua | |||||
| The heart with a mind of its own.(Be present.) | The mind with a heart of its own.(It's past.) | The dream that is your waking life.(Go there now.) | |||
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Everything I've ever known
Wow, is it nine already? I've been napping since about five when M. left for the studio to throw some pots. I've been sleeping a whole lot lately, probably due to the Zoloft (which I began taking again recently at the same dose I was taking when I stopped, which is a no-no, but I don't have the patience for the ramping up period). I got up and checked my messages and there was one from Sophistica asking for some notes, and one from my mother asking how we've been and so I called my mother and we talked about my grandmother, who is crazy (diabetes, won't take her insulin; high blood pressure, won't take her beta-blockers; has an infection in her foot, which likely now she'll lose. Way to go, grandma), and about my mother's teeth which have recently decided to make a break for it (she's broken two in the past month, one at least probably by grinding, which I didn't think of until just this moment as it would mean some kind of stress that she can't express directly), and about my uncle who is waiting to go to Denver for an evaluation for a liver transplant. Then her phone started to go dead, so I took down her email address and let her go. She asked when M. and I were going to come up and visit, though I can't hardly see straight as it is. (Whatever that means.) So, I made a cup of mango-orange tea and sat down to surf diaries that are so much more beautiful than mine, though not necessarily more insightful (so there!). I drank my tea, and wondered when M. was going to come home, and now I'm wondering about dinner. Earlier, I was sitting on the toilet (which is where you spend a lot of time if you're drinking 128oz of water a day)and I started to get that thing. You know, that thing where if you don't have something sweet immediately, you'll go crazy and eat everything in the house? Well, that. I started to try to examine that late-ish in the day desire for sweets, and it immediately took me to the time when I was growing up and night coming was scary and... My mother used to work nights, and she would begin to get ready around 9, and leave around 10:30 and I would then be left alone (I don't know why I say alone, as I had two brothers. But in my memory, they are nowhere to be found) with my father...
More lies:
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