The way a road looks from the backseat of a car. Almost like it's syrup. Like a spinning wheel despite its statuary nature. The color of electric green sprouting from every which way and the glow the sun sets on everything brings back a sense of nostalgia. It's part memory, part smell, part incomprehensible feeling in your stomach. A pull on your lips and a twinge of sadness. Riding home today. Falling asleep in the backyard, splaying in the sun, and going to bed when it's still light out, reminded me of childhood. Of a time still and contained like a phone in jello. Preserved and partly ephemeral. Mystical. Uncertain. Was it that way? How much was a dream, or a retelling by an older cousin or brother? or seen in a photograph. something that stung a memory of my own creation into my brain
I miss my friends. Participating not reminiscing. I miss that hot day on the last week of school. We'd roll up our shirts and tan. I bought my favorite lollipops and a 6 pack of beer. I got a bug bite yesterday. Or maybe it's poison ivy. Either way, it woke me up at 4 am on the solstice. Or was that my cramps? I felt like a child. Home alone. Wining and rolling back and forth trying desperately to get back to sleep, to get comfortable in a space meant only for that. Yet it was missing. An ache throughout my belly. A deep grievance of pain. I didn't need to be reminded I would wake up covered in sweat and blood. What a powerful thing we women do. It's so mystical that we bleed. Almost sacrificial, almost as a ritual.
In the pharmacy today I waited in line because a man was explaining the state his wife was in. He said he couldn't leave her for more than 10 minutes because if he did she would get up and accidentally hurt herself or take too many pills. He was paying more because he was refilling the prescription early because she was taking double the amount. She has dementia. He says she's just too stubborn. Won't let someone take care of her. "So goddamn stubborn." And yet here he is. Standing in line. Trying to figure out with the ladies at the pharmacy how to trick his bedridden wife into taking the right amount of pills by giving her more bottles. It's sickeningly sweet. exhaustingly sad and yet he doesn't sound irritated. He sounds tired, but humorous as well. Like he didn't know what else he would be doing but taking care of her. Poor Annie. That might not have been her name. Alice? Anyways. The ladies apologized to me a lot for taking too long. But I didn't mind. The man was going through much worse than I was by just waiting around, trying to get some Welbutrin. I wonder what I'll be doing when I'm 80. Who will I be waiting in line at the pharmacy for? What's the name on the knee medication? I wonder if I will be the one in bed with the prescription. Scaring her partner by getting up and hitting her head on something or taking too many pills. I wonder how we'll have met. And how long we'll have spent together. And what our relationship is like. What it's based on. If I truly think this person knows me. If I know myself. If I think I know them.
Where did they grow up? Who was their first-grade teacher? Was there ever a point when our family vacations may have overlapped? Or we were in the same city when we were 17? Did they like me when they first met me? Did I like them? Have we been divorced or separated before? Do we have or did we ever want children? Do they still talk to us?
2 cats furled around each other in a cuddle. Grooming the other without so much as a word. What love. A tomato can hanging from the ceiling with a jade plant growing in it. What genius. A pot on the stove, supposedly boiling water for my ramen.
Waking up in a sweat, with that 3-day-old headache, at 5:30 am out of habit. Getting back into bed after work for a cat nap, wondering if it's your period, your bender, your sleep schedule, or your work schedule that has you so exhausted. Could be any? Could be all. Remembering late at night that your dental hygenist said you'd have to change your lifestyle and oh god I'd be ruined without any teeth and I haven't flossed in days! A cat gently reminding me to wake up has the best effect on a bad morning. little paws reminding me there is still softness. in mornings. in sun through sleepy eyes.
Lately, animals have been making quite the appearance. I'm taking it as a good omen. They know what they want, what to do all day, and where the sun is. Butterflies, cats. All the like. A person through a window in a house that is not mine. Loads of laundry to fold at home. Waiting on Friday for some fun. Where have all the handsome men gone? And why are they not talking to me?
Water has finally boiled. Happy 50 years to indomie ramen. Let me go to bed and wake up headache-less.
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