i lay awake last night after a long day of frightening grouchiness while Luella the cat nuzzled up to me and kept innocently digging her little sharp claws into my overly sensitive skin. to which i said, 'sister, i need you to be soft and fluffy, no claws."
oh you have no idea what kind of grumpiness i refer to, preternatural, demonic and hissing.
it was a gorgeous 81 degree day as i drove out to the dry brown hill country with low-slung contorted trees, shallow rocky ravines, a tiny stream here, there, down the road a piece and curving road and sun sun sun.
on my way back into the city i pushed the button to the lowered driver's side window that refused to go back up. i smushed and pressed and begged, pleading please window please. i tugged the window while trying to raise it with my hands. no no no. now dark and arriving home i remembered the invite to share homemade chili and cornbread with a friend. ugh. i'm supposed to pick up the dvds which i did and then drove the windy 11 miles where the car sat wide open to vagrant birds and various others. my friend was unable to help me and i shared my fantasy of utilizing a baseball bat. he wished he had a box that i could take into his backyard where i could destroy it. BOX? WHAT DO I WANT WITH A BOX? my version involved four-wheeling the car up onto this woman's front porch, dousing it in gasoline and beating it into a un-useable pile of parts until sparks few igniting the heap of shit! instead i drove home, the wind drying my contacts. i emptied the glove box of any pertinent papers and the new set of plates i had yet to apply considering i had moved sans tools. i made a call to the vacation rental owner , the fox family and rogue squirrel to ask them if they were in need of a temporary home. given my evil disposition it seemed wise to get me to a soft bed where i was less likely to damage myself or others. unable to sleep i listened as the wind changed. i'd left my bedroom windows open on this warm close evening. i felt the air cooling. did i hear rain? is it raining!? it was raining, raining and getting cold. in full-blown dismay i listened helplessly as the wind whipped and water filled my car. when i finally fell asleep and awoke the temperature had dropped to 29 degrees. i looked up the number of the Volvo guy i'd been referred to and made a 1:30 pm appointment. relieved that help was on the way i packed for the library dressed in layers to combat the freezing winds. the car started and as i pressed the brake to put it into gear, the gear shifter was stuck, unmovable. i dared not force it. i pressed the little switch that's supposed to unlock the gears. it didn't work. my heart sank.
i called triple A (AAA) for a tow which would get me to the shop just in time for my appointment and then i called the mechanic to tell him i was being towed where upon he began asking me a series of questions. Had i really pressed the brake when i hit the unlock switch? i thought i had. "try it again." i did and it mercifully unjammed. so no tow. whew! once there the mechanic essentially disabled the window so i couldn't lower it again until he ordered another switch. all of which to say, the car is ok-ish, although it needs some work.
i still harbour a deep-seated fury toward the seller's alleged ignorance. and i do because another thing i thought about while awake with prickly irritation was the fact that i'd been raised in the Judeo-Christian tradition that allows for some righteous indignation. take Moses for example, disgusted with the Israelite's complaining ever since they'd left Egypt, "Moses, we're going to die out here, Moses, how can you watch us suffer without water, Moses we want meat to eat" and on and on endlessly. Moses broke into a little jig at one point and beat his staff on the ground causing fresh, not bitter, water to gush up from the rocks. and remember he also broke the first set of the ten commandments while hot with rage. and then the prophets, aww geez, fire, water, sacrifices, bears breaking out of the woods to eat small children after they'd harangued a prophet for being bald. and Jesus and the money-changers in the temple, turning over tables, chasing doves and birds about. don't tell me there's no place for a little anger. and let's don't forget Job...the high priest of 'have-nots'. this man suffered every indignity and loss a human could sustain and not without wanting to just die. his entire family was destroyed with the exception of his apostate back-stabbing wife and lousy ne'er-do-well friends who attacked and hen-pecked him as soon as God turned the corner. Job starts from a place of mournful praise, "naked i came from my mother's womb and naked i shall return there, the Lord gave and the Lord has taken, blessed be the name of the Lord." he then pours out his bitter frustration at the misguided advice and criticism of his wife and friends. and Job wrestles, really wrestes with his rage, physical pain, betrayal, disappointment, grief and loss. i know, all you biblical scholars are getting ready to tell me that there were several authors between chapter one's stoic summary and the last God-is-a hero chapter. well hell yeah there were...what with the boils, scabies, user-friends and a shrew wife you'd need ghost writers too.
but isn't this life? not like life, but life. i get the bigger picture. i get that i trying to work from a place of peace. i get that we grow through adversity...but good god, GIVE ME A BREAK.
ya'll stay sweet.
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