The angel says what would you want her to do, if she was in your position?

January 9, 2012




Sick.


Insomnia.


Anxiety over syllabi not yet completed.


Up at 3.30 am to finish reading through grant applications only to drag my sick and weary self to a meeting where others had not even finished reading the applications let alone make a decision about who should receive a grant.


Ask me how thrilled I was.


Come on.


Ask me.








Frankie and I took a time out yesterday morning.


Stephen at Quaker meeting.


Kids both in bed.


I should have been sleeping, but as sleep seems to be playing hide and go seek with me, and Frankie was staring at me with those big brown eyes, I decided to take an hour for just him and me.


Packed him into the back seat of Em's car and off we went to the farm for some r and r. 


Pulling out of the driveway, wondering if Mr. Man was going to park himself in the passenger front seat, I realized it was the first time I had ever gone anywhere with just Frankie.


And cried the entire drive to the farm.


Fortunately for both of us, I was saved from a tear-filled walk by the arrival of another car, complete with driver and two dogs, all of whom were in the mood for some of their own r and r.


Meaning I spent an hour talking dogs with a total stranger while Frankie frolicked and romped with a two year old weinheimer and a mixed breed.


Who really was a mix of everything.


Frankie had such a good time.


Even though the weinheimer was more aggressive than he was used to.


Leading Frankie, toward the end of the walk, to stay beside me, worn out from the running, chasing, to rest his snout in the palm of my hand, reassurance that I wasn't going to go anywhere without him.


Sometimes, you just need to step out for a while, talk with strangers and enjoy watching your dog romp on a Sunday morning.


Maybe if I did this more often I would suffer less from anxiety caused insomnia.








One of the things bouncing around my brain over the past two weeks has to do with power.


Ironically, if I was on my deathbed, I would not have the right to decide whether or not the quality of my life was sufficient enough to warrant continue living.


Think Sue Rodriguez.


Tracey Latimer.


But, I do have the power to make that decision for another living creature. 


I don't anticipate coming to any sort of resolution, at least not one I'm comfortable with.


Over and over I go around this conundrum in my mind.


If I can make life and death decisions for one living being, how come I cannot make them for myself?


Something to think about.








Last evening, tired from hours of reading grant applications. . .


. . ."is this a working supper?" Stephen inquired last evening. . . .


I sat down in my spot, to watch a couple episodes of Big Bang Theory.


Frankie on the couch.


Sleeping.


Dreaming.


Until he farted.


Not one of his silent-yet-stinky farts.


No.


This one was loud, obnoxious and scared the shit (no pun intended) out of Frankie.


Jumping off the couch, he looks at where he had been lying peacefully just a minute before, and then to me as if I could explain what interrupted his peaceful slumber.


Aggressive methane, little man.


Happens to all of us.








Title Lyric: Decisions by Ne-Yo