The experience was actually quite
liberating!
And sitting down to formulate my
usual mass email to approximately forty friends and family members who would
rather know when there’s something new on this blog - as opposed to feeling
obligated to pop by willy-nilly (what can I say, this isn’t the Facebook) - I
double-checked the usual link to make sure that I had entered it
correctly. (Lord knows, I forgot a forward slash ONE TIME, and all email hell
broke loose on my ass!)
But upon being redirected to my page
here at Blogger, I gasped in terror.
Yes the link was correct, but what
I’d neglected to comprehend was the fact that having published my post at
12:33am, the calendar date was actually February 22.
And let the
mind-fuckery begin...
Whilst I’m loathe to call it an
“anniversary” (as the term connotes some sort of jubilant celebration), it was
indeed a date that I commemorate.
Flash back with me if you will:
As if it were only yesterday, I recalled every
single sight and smell in the courthouse over half a decade ago. I’d been charged with a misdemeanor offense,
had worked as a (world’s WORST!) receptionist in trade for an Attorney, and had
essentially become a prisoner in my own mind...
I immediately recalled the eerie florescent glow
of the room (well, I AM an Actor (where
was my key light?), and quite frankly
EVERYONE looked like a criminal under such conditions!).
I also recalled the guy who had had a bench
warrant out for his arrest, who was hoping to negotiate surrendering himself at
a later date, and who was immediately strong-armed, wrangled, cuffed, stripped
of his belt buckle and shoe laces as he was hauled out kicking and screaming
through a side door. (EEK!)
Oh, and let us not forget! As if The Universe itself was growing weary of
the on-going “guilty – pay this fine/no contest – pay this fine” lengthy list
of misdemeanor citations and needed a bit of cosmic comedic entertainment, I
witnessed the world’s largest (Uck, I
can’t even type it...) um, ‘hard-shelled insect’, the size of a ripe lime lumbering
its way down the courthouse aisle like it OWNED the joint; the sight of which
sent me and a few other females screaming as we clambered to crouch acrobatically
upon the tops of the backs of our chairs – NOT
a physical reaction that I would generally recommend in front of armed Officers
who are trained to Taser and subdue at the first sign of trouble – but as
we weren’t NEARLY as aggressive as the ambulatory “lime”, we luckily didn’t
find ourselves at the wrong end of a swarm of quick-thinking policemen wielding
batons!!! (Again: EEK!)
Flash forward with me now, if you
will:
As sense memory can be a powerfully
debilitating experience, I made a deal with myself. I’d attempt to get some sleep (rough waters ahead as they may be for the
night); face whatever the daylight of February 22 had to offer, and if I
chose to commemorate the date by staying in bed for the next twenty-four hours
with a blanket pulled tightly over my head, well by golly, I had every right to
do so!
And thus I gave myself permission to
do as necessary, sans judgment of any kind.
>>><<<
Meanwhile (unbeknownst to me until days later), somewhere in the Midwestern
states, my friend (and Federal Agent for the Department of Justice), was battling
her own sense memory. Having
successfully conquered breast cancer (WOO-HOO!), yet cautiously continuing her
on-going quarterly check-ups, she was DEVASTATED to find out that out of the
blue, her blood-work had changed dramatically for the worse within the last
three months.
And let the
mind-fuckery begin...
“Here we go again...” she thought,
anticipating treatments, surgeries, etc., etc. etc., ad nauseam. And making a deal with herself to challenge
the test results – she knew inherently
that she was absolutely fine – she endured twenty hours of her own personal
hell until she was able to confer with her Oncologist.
As it turns out, the highly
respected University of What-The Fuck had inadvertently given her someone
else’s test results. Sure, their last
names were the same, and their first names both started with an “A”, but their
birth dates weren’t even close! (And yes, kind readers, I can feel your fury
building out there! Feel free to be up
in arms over this injustice, but trust
me, my Federal Agent friend has this particular situation well in hand!) And whilst I’m grateful that my friend is
absolutely healthy, our hearts go out to that dear lady, who for twenty hours,
hopefully enjoyed at least one day to the fullest extent before getting the horrific
news of her illness...
>>><<<
Now, generally, I wouldn’t include
the above story in one of my posts, as I prefer to explore the absurd, the
peculiar and the idiosyncrasies in The Universe that make me snort when I
laugh.
Yet, I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to
the beneficial therapeutic side effects of writing...
And catching up on the phone with my
Fed friend a few days afterward, I listened patiently as she related the tales
of her previous evening, appearing as a guest speaker at a cancer support
group, wherein she was prompted to share her story as well as the impact that
that particular organization had had on her recovery and personal well-being.
“That was great” one of the heads of
the society apparently told her afterwards.
“But you made a little bit too
much eye contact...”
Well, there’s your “absurd”!
>>><<<
As for me, I think I covered the
“peculiar”, as whilst I slept very hard and vampire-iffically immobile in my
bed until midday of February 22, my pea-brain recalled (in my dreams) the Judge
blathering on and on in legalese about my obligations and restrictions; one of
which included a strict admonition that should I fail to comply with the orders
of the court, I could be subject to deportation.
“That means that he can send you
back to Indiana” my Attorney whispered with a grin.(EEK!)
>>><<<
And as far as idiosyncrasies go, I’m
kinda sure I nailed that too...
“Welcome to McDonalds. May I take your order?” the voice on the
squawk box asked cheerily.
“Yes! I’m celebrating today, so may I please have
your Number Six Angus meal, but without the mushrooms on it?” I slobbered,
undeniably proud that I had chosen to face the “anniversary” with a hot shower,
an attitude of gratitude and a hearty appetite to celebrate how far I’d travelled.
“Of course,” the gentleman replied
professionally; “Diet Coke, right?”
“Guilty!” I beamed.
>>><<<
Wishing “Fair Winds and Following Seas”
to all of you navigating your own journey through life,
~Gulliver P
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