Wednesday, December 2, 2020

A Pair of Ragged Claws


I'm fucked up.  I feel I have no control over anything.  This flies in the face of my Existential philosophy, of course.  I can always choose how I feel about what is happening, can choose my reaction to it.  So I did.  Last night I chose to ingest a nerve pill.  I got up when Mr. Fixit was knocking on the door.  Out of it.  So I made the coffee and sat down with Mr. Fixit.  He is grumpy.  He is tired of the long drive each day, sore from manual labor he had not planned on.  I know.  I don't blame him.  But I am worried.  I need Mr. Fixit.  He said he is going to need a big check tomorrow.  Yea.  Yea.  

He has gotten to work and I am having coffee and writing this.  The inequity is palpable.  It is driving the cost up, I think.  

Today I have to make some decisions and purchases.  I am not good at that.  I do not make good decisions and then I am stuck.  I have to choose a shower door, a faucet set, and a toilet paper holder.  I have to get plumbing and a toilet seal.  I am as tired as Mr Grumpy, but the money only flows in one direction.  

Would anyone like to buy a big print?  Retirement is not going so well.  

I can't sit at the computer while he works.  I need to be a gofer.  One day, maybe, I will be clever again.  Now. . . I am just a mewing steer, here to take a goring and calm the bull.  

"I should have been a pair of ragged claws/ Scuttling across the floors of silent seas."

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