sound and fury (signifying nothing)

I feel like… I’m losing my everloving mind.

It’s exhilarating and terrifying. I can’t even describe it, and I know a lot of big, useless words.

I’ve felt this way before, this is true. Once, a dozen years ago, I lay in the grass for hours one night, feeling the way I’ve felt for the past week.

But that was the result of months of contact and effort. That was something that developed, like a photograph eventually appears out of the ghost of a negative. And I can’t be sure how much of that was real and how much was driven by hormones.

Now that I’ve got a few miles on the emotional odometer, I’ve realized that the person who made me feel this way the first time was my white rabbit, something I’ll never catch.

I know enough to know that I feel that way again, and it’s not because of hormones or proximity. It’s like that guy in the eHarmony commercial says, “find out what it’s like to make a match based on true compatibility” or something like that. It’s a little smarmy, and I hate to apply it to my situation. But what else would you call it? Luck? Fate? Magic? Design?

This time it’s come over me so rapidly I’m not sure I’ve really had the time to fully enjoy it, so I’m hoping I’ll be able to do so for a long time to come. I need to stretch it out and savor it, because it really is a beautiful thing.

It’s like I was just walking along, not looking for anything in particular, and some unseen knob got cranked up all the way. Some sort of master control that took every emotion I have and shook the shit out of me.

I can’t articulate it very well. But I fucking love it.

Music: Aqualung – Brighter Than Sunshine

If I could have more days like today, I wouldn’t be contemplating a hasty retreat. If I worked nothing but smooth drives with people I liked, I could stay in Van Buren indefinitely, and I could deal with missing home because I’d be truly happy in what I was doing.

But I won’t, which is both a blessing and a curse. If I was feeling the pull of contentment, I wouldn’t be about to go where I’m about to go.

Which, of course, isn’t widely known. Which is actually part of the fun.

I’ve had a completely great week. The three days off helped, obviously. But I was taken completely by surprise when Erika told me, “I’ve never seen you look so happy.”

Honestly, I can’t even remember the last time someone made me feel so good. When everything seemed beautiful and full of promise.

Well, I take that back. Probably the last time I felt this optimistic was when I was first coming out here. And then I got a sunburn so bad it made me cry.

So if I have to give myself any advice for this particular undertaking, it would be to apply sunscreen liberally. To my arms, to my legs, and maybe a little bit to my heart. Not because I’m worried, just because a precedent was set.

Music: Keith Urban – Got it Right This Time

…Sometimes shuffle freaks me out.

My Wikipedia addiction started when I worked at St. Francis. Overnights tend to be pretty boring, even in the ICU, and just about every site you could think of was blocked. By the time things started picking up again and it was time for AM labs, I would have seven or eight pages open.

It’s never really gone away. Any time I’m curious about something, I go here:

It’s one of the multitudes of reasons Firefox is awesome. (I swear, I’m not on their payroll.)

Anyway, to trace this itch back to its source, I was flipping through channels the other night and paused on Olbermann. He was doing a commentary on Hillary Clinton’s remark about Bobby Kennedy’s assassination, and although I rarely give much of a rip about politics, I was kind of intrigued. And I like Olbermann’s comments. It might betray me as a damned dirty lib’ral, but it’s not often I see anyone that eloquent get really fired up about things I mostly agree with.

And he was really fired up. It surprised me a little, because I could have sworn he was very much on Clinton’s side. (I’m not sure why, I haven’t watched Countdown much of late.) Of course, I didn’t know a whole lot about RFK, so I decided to read a little bit about it.

Now I understand the fury. Forty years after the rest of America, I am struck with a sense of incredible loss that such promise was extinguished. For someone who enjoys history, I haven’t ever felt so personally involved or upset at an historical fact I already knew (admittedly little) about.

Anyway, what I wanted to do was put these words, his words, somewhere they could be easily found, where I could look at them when my faith on humanity is running particularly low. From his memorial at Arlington National Cemetery:

“It is from numberless diverse acts of courage and belief that human history is shaped. Each time a man stands up for an ideal, or acts to improve the lot of others, or strikes out against injustice, he sends forth a tiny ripple of hope, and crossing each other from a million different centers of energy and daring, those ripples build a current that can sweep down the mightiest walls of oppression and resistance.”

- From his Day of Affirmation speech in Cape Town, South Africa 6 June 1966

“Aeschylus wrote: In our sleep, pain that cannot forget falls drop by drop on the heart and in our despair, against our will comes wisdom through the awful grace of God. What we need in the United States is not division, what we  need in the United States is not hatred, what we need in the United States is not violence or lawlessness, but love and wisdom and compassion toward one another, and a feeling of justice toward those who still suffer within our country, whether they be white or they be black. Let us dedicate ourselves to what the Greeks wrote so many years ago: to tame the savageness of man and make gentle the life of this world. Let us dedicate ourselves to that and say a prayer for our country and our people.”

-From his 4 April 1968 speech in Indianapolis, Indiana in the wake of the assassination of Martin Luther King, Jr.

Another moment in history that is so unbelievably devastating I can’t imagine how anyone could have lived through it unchanged.  I am different now than I was yesterday, and all I’ve done is merely read the pages of history.

I’m not usually an impulsive person. When something’s important, I tend to deliberate.

But I’m really considering doing something completely off-the-wall and life-changing without the benefit of planning or lead time. Just jumping off the ledge and seeing where I land.

Part of it’s the gastric lepidopterans, and part of it’s that it could be a lot of fun, and I like fun.

I’m supposed be an adult, and I don’t think many adults hold much stock in the sort of tea-leaf reading I’m doing. But I saw a NC plate on 59 this morning, so right away I perked up. I notice license plates, I guess, because it kind of personalizes the blank faces inside the steel-and-glass cages we all ride around in. Or maybe it’s just too many rounds of the License Plate Game as a kid. Who knows?

I was thinking about this as I drove the bus east to Clarksville, weighing the pros and cons. What it came out to was this:

And just as I had that thought, I was passed by a white van with a South Carolina license plate.

Who knows if it’s divine intervention, paranoia, or just the greatest coincidence of all time. I’m going to jump. And if the chute doesn’t open, it’s not like I’m going to die. I can bruise easily, but I also heal quickly.

I was never all that enamored of my job at the clinic, but now I sort of miss it. Forest-for-the-trees meets 20/20-hindsight, I suppose.

On my performance review, I was told that I was good with the patients. I was like that at the hospital, too – even when things were crazy, or I was ready to kill my coworkers, I always had my best face on for those in need. Now, though, I cannot make small talk with a donor to save my life. Every once in a while I’ll get one I can chitchat with, but they’re the exception, not the rule.

I wonder if it’s because I’m better at dealing with people who are sick, or if it’s a manifestation of the deeper unhappiness I feel at the loss of autonomy, my inability to fit into a scheme where fitting in seems tantamount to the actual job, and the overall Orwellian atmosphere.

It must also count for something that I never felt like my colleagues saw me as a retarded big (or little) sister, or that they were only nice to me because they felt sorry for me, or that they were merely putting up with me until which time I would kindly die in a fire. Sure, there were a couple people I knew didn’t like me, but there were specific reasons (neither of them were especially likable people). It never bothered me that much, and I never felt like the only time people saw me as an equal was when I was willing to purchase alcohol and/or debase myself.

If not for the commute, the pay, and the fact that I didn’t have as much personally invested in it (ie, really believing in what I do), I would truly consider going back.

Oh, and the drug reps. It’s a conflict of interest: I’m in the healthcare industry to help people get better; they’re there to profit off the misfortune of the public.

I am not a nice person.

I’m not fun to be around. I tend to be judgmental. I am inconsiderate, selfish, and sort of stupid*. These qualities, among others, are reasons why people probably look at me and say “she needs more Jesus in her life.”

Here’s the thing: I’ve never been driving down a lonely road with the windows down, caught a whiff of the Lord, and instantly thought that life was simply perfect and I’d never been happier. But a late-spring or early-summer night with the aroma of honeysuckle perfuming the air, is the sort of heaven I can believe in.

This has actually been a night of firsts for me. My inaugural sobriety checkpoint was in probably the strangest location I could think of for one of those. Of course, by that time I had not even a residual buzz left, so it was disappointingly uneventful.

Tonight was also the first time I’d ever seen a live armadillo. I’ve been thinking lately that as many of them as I see curled up and mangled on Arkansas roadsides, I’ve never seen one moving. And then, there one was, right in the middle of the road and alive as can be, for about another three seconds.

*I’m not exaggerating on this one. I get the distinct feeling from several people I know that they see me as sort of a retarded sister figure. More on this later.

I saw another one:

On the way home from work, it flew past me on North 540. I sped up to catch it and I’m not sure why. Like I’m gonna see someone I know and get their attention (with my broken horn) and have a bleeding conversation.

Then I realized I was going a piston-pounding 80 and had to drop back lest I get pulled over or my car commit a heinous act of asplosion. I had to let him go. (I know it was a him because it was a Honda. Slightly effete – or sensitive and well-coiffed, if you prefer – but a him nonetheless.) He veered to the right at I-40, and I went wrong.

That pointless exercise aside, I’m off on another one: a writing prompt. Then a nap.

Music: Coldplay – Only Superstition

I meant to write some kind words about mothers, this being their day and all. But everything I come up with sounds Hallmark-y and maudlin.

So here it is. To my mom, her mom, your mom, and all the mothers out there who sacrificed their youth, their waistlines, and their sanity to make sure that the kids are, in fact, all right: thank you.

And, uh… can I borrow five bucks?

Music: Weird Al – eBay

A few somewhat-related thoughts from this girl from Carolina.

It is an absolutely gorgeous May evening. I am way too far from home for it to be put to its full use. Or am I just too old?

I wore my USC scrubs today. I was pleasantly surprised when the cashier at Valero noticed. Then on the way home from Ozark, I saw a license plate from SC. Before your reason clouds your eyes, you can rule the world if you want to.

I am more human than previously thought. I don’t want to go to sleep tonight, I just want to lay on the damp grass and stare skyward until five in the morning. I have no reason to, of course, other than wanting to be a teenager again. Wrap myself in black, listen to The Cure.

I have let too many years go by. Memory rushes over, buries you.

I used to think Hello and Good God’s Urge were the soundtrack to my formative years. With that crystal-clear hindsight I have now, I’m pretty sure it’s Deluxe.

Music: Better Than Ezra – Porcelain

Update (1216): I saw another one. I haven’t seen a half-dozen South Carolina license plates in the 18 or so months I’ve been here, and I’m always on the lookout for them. And then, as I was driving up 540 ten minutes ago, I was passed by a Cadillac of some sort, sporting the “In God We Trust” plate, with the SC flag on it.

I know it means nothing, other than that I’m pretty deranged, but so what? It makes me happy, and happy-crazy is better than pissed-off-crazy, or lonely-crazy, or depressed-crazy. I’ll take it!

I told somebody yesterday, “No subterfuge on company property.”

I don’t know if it’s because there’s a policy against it, or if they’d prefer centerfuge.

Snicker.

In other news: sha-la-la-la, I’m going home. Not immediately, but hopefully before my next birthday.

I jotted that down on a sticky note a couple weeks ago. It’s one of those mental meteorites that I happened to have been lucky enough to spot. And now it all makes sense.

I’m so mad I could spit. Perhaps a poisonous substance.

All I can say is that in this case, abstention was the best course of action. It’s too bad, really, because it could have worked out well. I try my best to keep everything harmonious and lead by example. And 95% of the time, I work my ass off, even when it hurts, even when I’m in a wretched state of mind.

It must be absolute balls to have people above you breathing down your neck and people below you resenting you for stupid shit. In those cases, it’s good to have low totem-pole altitude.

How-some-ever, that’s why they make the big bucks. You don’t like the shit, get off the fan.