My life is not perfect. I realize this comes more as a shock to me than to anyone else. As hard as I've worked to achieve order and sanity in the midst of the chaos that is my mind, I'm barely pushin' the 'normal' needle out of the red zone. What most people see of my life is simply an illusion. An illusion very skillfully crafted. Great pains have been taken in its construction. It protects me and what's mine, a comfortable buffer for those I wish to keep at a safe distance. There are those I let in, my "inner circle" who I allow behind the shiny, plastic outer shell. These are people I've deemed safe, those who've watched with me when the shell has sprung a leak and the ugly blackness of what my life can be came pouring out the hole. They stuck around to help clean up the destruction and mess it leaves behind. If not for these, you'd probably find me straight jacket wrapped or a gutter junkie. It takes work to keep patching the holes...and ya know, once you've got a patch, or patchES in my case...well, the illusion just loses some of it's sparkle. It actually becomes quite ugly. Like the neighbor's trash keeps blowing onto your lawn....my mess keeps blowing onto my illusion. It cannot be ignored forever. It will have to be dealt with.
I'm havin' to deal with some mess. That's the simplistic way of expressing life this week. I prefer the simplistic expression because it allows me to remain numb. "Mess" doesn't prick the surface like say, "my family is unravelling before my very eyes" does. "Mess" is a very neutral term that doesn't require much, if any, emotion to be attached. I like the big clump that "mess" embodies. I don't have to think about the specific details of the clump. A clump can be picked up and shoved in a paper sack....tiny little detail pieces require a bit more work to contain. Sorta like mud as opposed to dirt....you're gonna get dirty either way. Which do you prefer to deal with? The wet stuff that sticks together or the dry stuff that you can sweep and sweep but never get totally rid of. I like mud. Yep, a big, muddy mess....that's what life is this week. Thank goodness I get a new one every seven days.
On the lighter and somewhat brighter side of things, the school year is almost complete so I'll get a break from the lists of spelling words, permission slips, parent/teacher conferences, and report cards for a while. Mom is flourishing in the climate of grandkids she's submersed in, even tho she had to put her precious 19 year old kitty down yesterday. He didn't acclimate as well to the new home. It caused him a stroke, in fact. Oh, the memories I have of that cat. Shoot, she'd had him since I was 15...he's as much a part of my family as...well, BILL! I've known them both a fairly equal amount of time anyway. :) She sent me a text with his obituary and a picture of his final resting place last nite. Poor Mom. First, it's Bill not hangin with us Okies (he headed back north pretty quickly) and now, Cooper the Cat.
