Of 'shunning Men and Women' - they talk of Hallowed things, aloud - and embarrass my Dog
I'm pretty sure Emily Dickinson would have disliked me: I don't do it slant enough, and I would certainly have embarrassed her dog. Sorry, Emily.
I spoke when I should have been silent, yesterday. Tried to talk to a client about different ways of approaching chronic pain. It was the wrong time and I used the wrong words, and it was probably counterproductive, not to mention probably losing me a client. I've been reproaching myself steadily ever since. Of course, there were probably twenty times yesterday that I should have spoken and did not, but I don't get my face rubbed in the consequences of that.
Another broken night, awake at 2:30, filling in the time doing laundry (there is always laundry to do, if you're a massage therapist.) Light is beginning to show in the bands of sky between slats of the blinds, though the streetlight is still on. I might try getting a little more sleep. It's still an hour or two before anyone will wander down to open up a restaurant. It will be broad daylight by then, but you odd people will all still be in your beds, dreaming through the daytime. How do you do it?
4 comments:
Sleep is where I am safe. Even as a child, once I got through the prodromal terror, the other side was peace and silence, where my Guardian Angel watched over me. I feared while wide awake, and longed to be back asleep.
http://www.thisamericanlife.org/radio-archives/episode/361/fear-of-sleep
If you lost a client for something you said, then that person needs someone else anyway. Speak and let the truth be known.
The oddest of all: teenagers and people early in their 20's, who can sleep all the day if not awakened.
The people in my life who I really couldn't talk to about chronic pain (if I were to magically become a massage therapist) are the ones who have some other sort of issue that gets in the way. You know what I mean!
How many more times I've let my trap open and regretted it, than the opposite? I know what I can control (nothing, especially my mouth). So the chips fall, and people either sweep through them or they don't. I wouldn't have had anything to say about chronic pain, because I don't know anything. I did watch it in someone I loved more than any other. She listened to everybody, though. So you never know, until you know. Onward!
You can't embarrass a dog, they spend half their lives licking their own bottoms. Mind you, if we could do that we probably wouldn't need massage therapists.
Every time I think I must by now have taken myself out of harm's way enough not to have those mortifying mouth moments, I manage it again! I think death will be the only complete cure for them, but it's a bit drastic.
I like waking up, saying hello to the light, closing my eyes and seeing how it's changed when I open them again. I sometimes regret abandoning larkish habits, but not enough to resume them.
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