Tuesday, July 7, 2015

Monday Meh - You didn't think I forgot, did you?

Woman with Umbrella, Robert Delaunay
Ok, I know it's Tuesday. It might still be Monday in Hawaii, I guess. At any rate, I am both pleased and alarmed to share the news that the summer institute I have managed for the past 8 years was cancelled this summer due to lack of interest. Yay!!! Yikes!!!  This turn of events somehow hasn't resulted in there being much less work for me to do -- just work of a different nature, work that the new colleague in the office is supposed to be doing but cannot be relied upon to do,  and other work that another colleague is too busy atteending to personal shit to do  . . .  So at least the void left in my hours, if not in my budget, is being filled. 

Other demands on my time and energy are occuring on the home front, too. For a while now my mother has been dealing with chronic nerve pain, and one by one we've been exhausting all options but surgery. We're still looking for that "magic pill" that will deliver relief and a means to a better quality of life. When you live in the middle of freaking nowhere, though, the journey to health is a literal one, driving more than an hour to the town where the brain and spine and orthopedic specialists are. It's been another kind of adventure, too, realizing that my mother doesn't or doesn't want to hear what the doctors have to say -- "If I don't hear what is wrong with me, I don't have to admit I'm unwell," she has basically said.  This caregiving has become an intricate dance that I am trying to learn. It is inevitable that I will step on some toes, miss some beats, never seem to perfect. I never was a good dancer, though . . . 

A while back I made the observation that there are 2 funeral homes within walking distance of my house, but I have to drive 25 miles to buy a bottle of wine -- or clothes, for that matter. So while Bubbaville may be a good place to die, it's a shitty place to live, even under the best of circumstances.  My plan to move away, though, is on hold until the thing that I can't articulate -- you know, THAT thing -- comes to pass. 

I'd better stock up on wine.  

8 comments:

  1. I have lived there: churches and funeral homes galore - but an hour travel to stock up on wine. It's a shitty place to live - we moved. Come on up to Maine, the air is fresh and people don't get in your face if you don't march to their tune.
    Things pass - time passes; but situations remain unless you move on.
    best to you
    the Ol'Buzzard

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    1. I actually was considering Maine as a possible vacation destination -- have always wanted to see Acadia National Park -- but I don't know if a vacation is in the cards yet. I don't know about your winters, though . . . that'd be a hard sell!

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  2. Wait, Maine? Isn't that Stephen King country? I've always dreamed of living in London: Just knowing that Sylvia Plath and Ted Hughes lived there is good enough for me :-)

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    1. You're right, Dylan - maybe a long Maine winter is what I need to rekindle my own writing mojo.

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  3. Ah, yes... colleagues who are allergic to work.... intriguing! Strangely confirming for me, tho. I have similar nonsense going on in my workplace as well. No good deed goes unpunished.
    Tough stuff with your mother... it is so difficult to accept pain as a reality and then move to strategies for managing it... my Dad was stubborn right to the end. He died at home ... my family does not live in butt f*#k nowhere, but I hear you about geographic priorities.
    Hang in.... Maine is a nice place to visit.... Hop on the boat and see a bit of Canada, why dontja?
    sending good thoughts and vibes your way.

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    1. I was also considering Montreal for my vacation, with stops to see my buddies in southern Ontario . . . But I just can't plan anything now. Thankfully our vacation time isn't a "use it or lose it" proposition, as it was some places I've worked.

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  4. I've been where you are (mentally, not physically) and it is/was difficult to break away. In my case it was finances that held me back...or so I thought. However, the situation of where I lived became so depressing that I finally just packed and left...without a job to go to where I was going. But, as is usually the case, I worked it out. Of course I didn't have the added burden of an ill mother. I did have the saving grace of readily available vino, however.

    Rereading this, I have no idea what I'm talking about, except maybe, I can't believe you've endured that place as long as you have; I know it's been at least nine years (correct me if I am wrong) because I've been blogging ten years and you and I made blog contact at some point the first year.

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    1. Sixteen and a half years, JJ. It's not the life I planned, for sure. But it won't be forever -- it'll just feel like it.

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