#371: A LISTING OF THE MOSTLY POSITIVE
I have decided to list my successes today, or at least create a list in which some kind of success is embedded somewhere in each point. Even the deaf (allergy complication) and the cramping (fingers crossed) and the cold (where is the heat in this apartment?) have to find reasons to celebrate.
- When I stood up and smashed the back of my head into the cupboard door that will not stay closed, goddammit, I did not rip the bloody thing from its stupid hinges.
- I made excellent coffee this morning.
- Rather than resorting to my usual laziness and having a bath in a tub full of cat hair and creosote (also from the cat), I actually cleaned the bathtub to a sparkling shine before filling it.
- I did not string up the cat when he left tufts of fur and dirty footprints in the tub in the five minutes between when I cleaned it and when I returned to fill it up.
- I took my Ben@dryl like a good girl,
- and now I am high.
- I finished transcribing my first half-hour videotape of a terribly boring man who talked on and on, stuttering out partial phrases in a halting fashion, stopping to rethink, and then starting again in a completely different direction. If I could type out five seconds of speech before a confusing switchback, I was lucky. He spoke for nearly five minutes about something that supposedly was the highlight of his career, and after typing out every single word, uhm, and pause, all I could glean was that some guy shook his hand once. I thought I would die, and then it was over, and now I get $35 for the ordeal. Sometimes success is simply in the act of finishing mind-numbing and repetitive contract jobs.
- I wrote a good poem, I did. It's true. I am not going to share it, though, because I am secretive and mean. Oh shucks, you're right, I'm not. Again with the mock tough exterior. Honestly, I am just feeling shy today.
- Through careful watering and proper fertilization, I have managed to get my African violet to bloom fourteen pink flowers with three layers of petals. FOURTEEN. Is it weird to feel frilly and feminine around it?
- My full-time day job was only a temporary position until recently when it was made a permanent position. Due to the bureaucracy here, I had to submit my resume as though it were a new position I was applying for, and they gave me the job that I have been doing for well over a year. This means that I won't be unemployed after the 31st! And they like me after test-driving me for fifteen months!
- Lately, I have been consistently dreaming about the Fiery One's boss. Usually, Boss-man and I are talking in these dreams. We have a casual conversation, more business than friendly, and that is all. When I wake up from these dreams, I feel that something important has transpired, but I cannot remember what it is we were talking about. It feels as though he wants something to happen a certain way, or he has an idea that I want to change, and I am trying to convince him of my side of some matter. Last night, I was having another dream about Boss-man, only in this one I asked him politely if we could stop having these conversations because they were becoming invasive. I was conscious enough in my dream to ask for what I wanted! I think he agreed. At least I hope he did, because after working all day at my job, I don't need to have the Fiery One's job taking up every night. I fear its weirdness.
- Did you know that not having an extra $400 dollars means that I cannot join the barbershop chorus? They are a competitive chorus, so the fee covers some of the costs of entering competitions and traveling and such. I am ever so responsibly paying off student loans, so I will have to give it a second shot in spring of 2007. The success part of this point is that I am not crushed. I am disappointed, but not crushed. I am less of an emotional spaz these days than I used to be.
- A dear old friend that I have managed to see only once in the last five or six years e-mailed me the other day, and I sent her this site address. I couldn't decide whether I did it because I lack shame or because I am more confident than I used to be, so I decided that it was a bit of both and am revelling in the idea that, hey!, I can be confident!
- I am presently designing two weblog templates for people and am thrilled, thrilled, thrilled to be at it again. There's only so much minute fiddling I can do with mine before I get antsy.
- I like my earlobes despite how I was teased about their fuzziness all through school. They are soft like peaches. Dove should pay me $10,000 for them.
- Someone cleaned out the storage room in my office and let us take whatever we wanted from the garbage pile, so I am now the proud owner of MY VERY OWN ROLODEX. I have always had a strange attraction to Rolodex's. I like the white teletype brand name stamped into the black plastic, the fitted blank cards on tracks, the raised plastic separators for alphabetizing. I have to get my hands on some extra blank cards so I can paint, draw, and glue on each one. It will be a whole gallery filed neatly on a deck of sliding cards.
- This point means that this list does not end with number 16, which is good. I have successfully avoided ending it on an icky number. 19 would have been a better one, but I have to go eat pizza, so 17 it is.
The Poems of Peter Davison by, of course, Peter Davison