I was trying to find a good Youtube version of Joan Osborne’s “Dracula Moon,” but there isn’t one. I did spend some time being reminded just how good Relish is except for that one song, which will remain unnamed.
There are these moments in pop culture when you hear someone–like Joan Osborne, say–and you think “Oh, hey! This is going to be the segue to some damn interesting stuff by artists who take their inspiration from her.” But then it rarely is.
I still like her, though.
I think it was Elias to whom I said that listening to Relish reminds me of hot Southern summer nights, when you have the windows open, praying for a breeze, and you can hear your neighbors in their houses, their windows also open, everyone overhearing the intimate ways people deal (or don’t) with the heat.
I now hate the whole “You can do what ever you want so long as you put your mind to it” bullshit thingy. Saying. Aphorism. Whatever. Today, an awesome opportunity sat in my lap and whispered naughty, naughty things in my ear about the places that opportunity would take me, the things we might do together.
And I had to turn it down because I just don’t think I can’t have a schedule. I have to know that I can eat at these specific times. I have to take my medicine at this time and then give myself a little bit to get woozy or whatever.
And that really sucks. It makes me feel old. It makes me feel like I’m always going to be trapped at a desk, that I can never, even for a second, be without health insurance. I don’t even know if I would have liked this opportunity, just on its face. But I couldn’t even evaluate it on its face. I had to think “Can I even do this?” And my honest answer was “No. Probably not.”
I feel weird about that.
In other news, I’ve gotten two phone calls today, one on my cell from a number I didn’t recognize, the man saying “Hello? Betsy….?” and I said “Hello?” and then he said “Hello?” and we got cut off. And then, just now, when I got back from lunch, there was a message on my work phone from a woman who said “Hello, Betsy? Hello…?” and I could hear people in the background. It sounded like they were having a great time. And then she hung up.
Somehow, it feels like a metaphor.
Indifferent children’s knot is glorious! My laces stayed tied the whole time. I haven’t tried to untie them yet, but, for now, I am reveling in the joy of a walk unencumbered by shoe-tying every thirty steps.
It’s amazing how that put a spring in my step throughout my walk.
You never know what’s going to lift you out of a funk, but if a few days of tied shoes do it, I’ll take it.