I am far too dependent on my environment. I am far too dependent on my environment. I am...
...currently attempting to unclench my teeth and ease up on the pounding red and purple blotches in the peripheries of my vision.
It doesn't really matter that my personal banker or whatever-she-thinks-she-is so massively mistunderstood when I ever so patiently explained THAT THE BANK MACHINE ATE MY CARD AS IN MUNCH MUNCH CRUNCH MUNCH was not the same thing as "somebody stole it please freeze my account until your brain catches up to your mouth and you realize that it takes three weeks to undo the button you just clicked and that freezing an account isn't the same as cancelling a card and YES I KNOW IT TAKES THREE WEEKS TO REPLACE A CARD BUT THAT DOESN'T MEAN I WON'T BE NEEDING ANY CASH FOR THREE WEEKS let alone this close to Christmas and a thousand travel plans"
at this point I've lost count.
I am reminding myself that it is good to be reminded of the dead weight of the call of money.
My appartment is a "I've been working too hard to think about it" kind of mess, something I had been growing out of but fell prey to this week of triple deadlines.
Sushi birthday evening out on the town has been replaced by a carefully frugal "tomato-mozzarella rigatoni" night at my place, I plan to leave the girls at the door whilst I scoop pants and sweaters from the floor and squeak-clean my dishes.
None of this is of any great consequence.
Three weeks from now I will have forgotten the gnawing discomfort at having a handful of cash left to your name and a buspass to purchase, guests to house and entertain, political lunchtime restaurantings to budget in.
None of this has ever been of great consequence.
Except, mayhap, in Aristotle's great list of components of a happy life, and perhaps
I am beginning to finally pay some mind to the importance of that list
Now that David is on it. He makes everthing suddenly so important...
...Which reminds me of the things that I SHOULD be glorying in, spending serene moments cushioning my brain on
things that just might carry longer than three weeks from now, into months and maybe even...
*This is where my breath stops in my throat.*
Partly because I'm frightened, sure, frightened of not having learned enough from my last mistakes to be able to make this perfect enough. Frightened that I might be wrong when my heart fills to bursting and I tell myself that "this may be it".
But mostly because I believe it, I just can't BELIEVE it. Can't believe it could happen to me.
And now he's here, part of this, part of the community that has warmed and healed and lessonned/lessenned (the two being sides of the same torroid) so many hurts.
He is here, in this place of greatest intimacy.
Bienvenue mon namour... Pour qu'on puisse tout partager.
What better way to ease my way into the next quarter century. (it hasn't hit me ye-et...)