Wednesday, August 04, 2004

so i made a "to-do" list at work today. i have to do something there...otherwise, i literally fall asleep in the middle of calling someone.

i've always been pretty a pretty anti-to-do list person.

but i've started to shut down lately because i have so much to do...so i figured, that if i at least had a little paper that i could scratch things off when i was done...maybe that would help. a little. perhaps, i even thought for a moment that i would find my salvation in it. in the accomplishment of the list that i have now not being the same list that i have two weeks from now. mostly, because if that were the case, then i probably wouldn't be able to start my job so well in pittsburgh.

so, nowhere on my list was cook dinner for five and run to the emergency room for tonight. but, i guess...that's why i've never been a to-do list person...because they (the lists, that is) never seem to work out so well in my life anyway. it's like...if i make a list, it is only to mock me sometime shortly thereafter.

have no fears- all is well. my mom just got a little too happy with a new kitchen toy her and my father purchased from pampered chef, and took off the top of her right index finger. it wouldn't stop bleeding, so we had to go in.

unfortunately, i think the dr. is a buffoon. but don't i always seem to think that everyone else is the idiot when things don't go my way, selfishly?

mr. dr. man had to burn my mother's finger to get it to stop bleeding. i forget the technical term for it, but really...it's burning flesh, people. i don't think you can get much grosser than that (although i am sure plenty have stories that match or beat burning flesh). but he didn't even numb my mother's finger or hand to do this! he just said "oh, this is going to burn a little" and proceeded to torch my mother's finger shut.

all was well until we got in the car (i was driving). we closed the doors and tears started streaming down my mother's face as she simply exclaimed "mother-f***er". the proclamation shocked me, as she appeared fine when we were in the lobby just seconds before. that, and seeing my mother cry always shakes me.

i put some drugs in her and made her go to sleep. so hopefully, she's in less pain now.

but i suppose...we all have these waiting rooms and lobbies in life....where we smile and pretend like things don't touch us, don't effect us. but they do. the thought seeps in to my heart most likely because i am re-reading "the wounded spirit" by frank peretti. it is such an amazing book....but i'm not going to plug it right now.

i guess...if our cars are these places we go, these shelters of protection (such as andrew R. mentioned that jaelyn referenced their car as being)...what would happen if we all rolled our windows down, old-school without the air conditioning, and paid a little more attention when someone is crying out an exclamation of the truth and beauty and anguish of the human spirit?

maybe it's good that i have an old car without air conditioning. i ride with my windown down every day...but usually not all the way. i think it's time to let my guard down...

1 comment:

Redbaerd said...

cauterizing?

i think thats it?

and you know those restrictive rolled up windows remind me of our cauterized souls....

you know, those moments when you're bleeding and bleeding and then someone burn you. No really. Burns you. And then the bleeding stops because you feel so angry.

And then you wonder: which was better? burning or bleeding?