“Patrick, I came over to see if you wanted to go jelly-fishing but I can see you’re busy having an episode.”
The kids are watching SpongeBob and I overheard that. I nearly wet myself.

I ran around today on a bunch of errands. I bought wasp spray, gardening gloves, isopropyl alcohol, nail supplies, clippers, and a new pump for my fountain. I was going to buy a snail for the fish tank but ran out of time. At 5:30 the nice man who tests my backflow assembly for the fire sprinkler system came out.

After the kids went to bed I finished my book. It’s a really good book and it made me cry. I like that in a book.

On Saturday I finished my last day at my new job. I quit on Thursday. She didn’t exactly let me quit and continually tried to manipulate me into changing my mind. That tactic just doesn’t work with me anymore. Nothing would have worked. It was a bad fit. The job made me feel BAD. I apologized for the inconvenience my quitting will cause but refused to back down. I’m taking a week off then starting a new job where I rent a chair and decide my own path. It’s risky and part of what kept me in a place where I felt BAD was the knowlege that I “should” have this job, that it was a good job, an ideal job. But, it’s not an ideal job for me. I want to steer my own boat.

My mother does not understand but I suppose she tries. How can she understand when I am not the protagonist of her story? As a character in a supporting role I can either be a wholesome worker bee steadfastly working toward the good of my family or an inexplicable paradigm of the tragedy of poor choices. But I am neither. When I stop living in her story I become the center of my own where I am an extraordinary person living an extraordinary life.

I’ve lived too many years as a peripheral part of others’ stories hoping for a Major Role and never even getting major billing. It has become clear that I’ve been neglecting my own script and I have moved decisively to correct that.

Elsa needs new questions. If you have a question you would like help with hoof it on over there. I can attest to the fact that she does indeed give great advice.

I can’t think of any questions today cos I had a faboo dream, you know the one where you tell people off and they just sit there and take it? yeah!

After lazing about all morning, accomplishing nothing of recognized
value I placed my tea cup in the microwave, turned to the blue sky in
the kitchen window and let out a happy growl as I stretched, fists
aloft.  My eyes settled on this graduation gift perching on the
sill:

   It’s from my friend Brooke.  It’s called “Courage.”

Hey, that was my exact stance!  See the little wire wings out the
back?  I have those too, metaphorically; they’re the waves of “sensation”
from my back spasming, the effects of lying in bed too long in conjunction with
not doing my yoga on a regular basis. I generally call my poses
“Apathy” and “I’ll tell them I forgot to set my alarm” but I have to
say, I’m liking the idea that it could be construed as “Courage.”
  All riiiiiiiiiiiiight… we shall overcome.