A CLEAN SWEEP
I mailed the birthday package to Mr. Married today. It contains the item I ordered for him before our last IM conversation. It also contains a 2 page letter basically letting him know that if he's going to thumb his nose at lower-class working people without health care, he'll be doing it to me because I've been there. I also gave him a hand-burned cd, because I can't resist an opportunity to expose people to different kinds of music, even if said people are people I currently want to smack. Finally I gave him a bunch of condoms that I picked up at my college (long story) and a couple of massage books that I ordered in 1998 when I moved into my first apartment because I stupidly thought I might have the opportunity to use them someday. More than a decade later, I've never cracked them open.

I included a note with the sex stuff telling him that these weren't exactly gifts, just stuff I was getting rid of and didn't want to throw away. I've finally come to terms with the fact that I'll never need these things, so I might as well give them to someone who will put them to good use.

So I had a couple of weeks off a while ago, during which I scheduled 2 medical appointments--my annual physical, and my annual dentist visit. Here's what resulted from those 2 appointments:

*I'm back on Lipitor

*I have a vitamin D deficiency and have to start taking supplements

*I have a congenital heart abnormality and need to see a cardiologist (still need to schedule that appointment)

*I have to start getting mammograms now that I'm an old woman (did that today--and I'd just like to state for the record that this was NOT a good day to schedule a test that requires one NOT to wear deodorant)

*I had a cavity that was caused by an improperly placed filling (the filling was preventing me from flossing the area properly because the floss would get stuck on the filling)

*Got the cavity filled, and I STILL can't floss there because the second filling prevents me from flossing there! (Yes, I think it's time for a new dentist.)

I think I've mentioned before that I've been looking into Wicca. Wicca considers dreams important because they allow us to look at our subconscious. Wicca is also highly focused on nature. So here are some events that have happened to me this week, which may or may not be relevant:

*Mr. Married posted a couple of photos on FB of a goldfinch that had been hanging around outside his windowsill. He acted like it was some freaky bizarre event out of the Twilight Zone or something. This bothered me because goldfinches are the sweetest little creatures that don't hurt anyone. They're just pretty little birds that eat thistle seed and don't have any reason to bother anybody. I actually posted a comment on his photo (the first time since his offensive IM conversation) to tell him that they were harmless & he should enjoy them.

That day as I was walking back to the bus I saw someone wearing a shirt with the name of his favorite band on it.

That night I had a very disturbing dream that an alligator had somehow gotten into my apartment and was going after my cat. I was trying to protect my cat but couldn't because I was too afraid of the alligator attacking me. This dream disturbed me so much that when I woke up I cried most of the next morning. Yes I know that's silly, it was just a dream, and there aren't any alligators this far north. But it really upset me for some reason.

That same morning Mr. Married posted a link on FB to an article about a drunk guy who climbed into a zoo pen and tried to ride a crocodile.

When I walked back to the bus that day, I saw someone wearing ashirt with the name of his other favorite band.

So what does this all mean? I'm not sure, but I don't think it's just pure coincidence. I think maybe I'm the goldfinch and he's the alligator, but I'm not sure how or why. Maybe I'm the goldfinch because many people view me as disturbing and freaky, when I'm really quite harmless. (Unless you piss me off, then you'd better batten down the hatches.) Maybe even Mr. Married is starting to think of me that way. And maybe he's the alligator because I want to defend myself against his bigoted behavior and a the same time I'm afraid of him hurting me.

I've also come to the realization that I've wasted an awful lot of my life trying to convince people (the little shits I went to school with, my DNA-providers, idiot bosses whose asses I could easily kick in any battle of wits, college cliques I had the misfortune to live with, men for whom I've fallen, etc., etc., ad nauseum) that I'm a decent and worthwhile human being. You know what? I'm fucking sick and tired of it. If you want to hate me, go ahead. You think I'm a loser? Fine. Whatever. You've got a problem with the size of my ass? Kiss it. I'm not a horrible person, but I'm tired of trying to convince the entire world of that fact. As they say in Kansas, when you argue with a fool, you've got 2 fools arguing.
- posted by Pat @ 10:36 PM