Louissa Tabolt

is it possible for me to have reached a new low in life?  if it is, i did tonight.

after being in an office for 8.5 hours straight i came home with arms full of boxes.  those boxes held work which was going to be taken care of tomorrow while i stay home with the ten year old boy.  i don’t know if i was too frightened to spend a whole day working from home and love it so much that i would never return to the office or what, but i just sat at my kitchen table for the last 2.5 hours tackling the majority of the project.

and it wasn’t actually because i thought i’d like spending tomorrow putzing through work from the comfort of my own home too much.  i found myself in this house tonight and i felt utterly lost.  i really could have done a whole bunch of other things — there’s a piano to play, movies to watch, novels to read — but none of it interested me.  so i worked.  i didn’t know what else to do.  i found addresses and sealed envelopes and was quite content to sit in absolute silence (unless i decided to tell a story to the blonde who was in and out of the room) all evening.  and somehow i liked it.

i’m a workaholic.  what a low.

i had to clip my yellow delight’s nails (talons if i’m being correct) this evening.  it’s a traumatic event for all involved.  gigi squawks and throws her legs about while being held, the jess girl who volunteers to keep her between her hands so gently is bitten a thousand times, and i try my best to clip here and there and not hurt her.  i hate it.  it’s like hearing your baby cry and cry and cry while driving for hours and you know you’ve got to keep driving but everything in you says to stop and just hold her.  okay, so maybe my owner-of-a-pet instincts aren’t quite as strong as a mother’s, but you get the idea.

tonight i tried clipping quickly and i clipped too much.  my bird thrashed even more violently and there was a tiny blot of blood at the end of a nail.  i felt terrible.

everyone in my family laughs at my mum because she talks to my bird, but i do it too.  i ask her how her day is every single time i come home (most of the humans in this house don’t even get that).  i’ve sat beside her and told her the strongest feelings in my heart, cried while telling her of my bitter disappointments, and assured her that someday i’ll be able to spend my days with her like everyone else.

tonight i’ve apologized profusely for hurting her.  what in the world has happened to me?

i’m an emotional pet owner. that is a super low.

this past friday i found myself spending more time at the church while rehearsing for a conference the next day.  the minute it was done i left, came home and changed into pajamas, crawled into bed, picked up my knitting, and sat there for an hour before falling asleep.

i’m like a grandma.  only i’m twenty-one. goodnessgracious.  the lows i’ve reached.

ah.  whatever.  i am what i am.  i guess i’ll go pick up my knitting, crawl into bed, and usher in my nighttime dreams while listening to melodies and putting more rows onto my scarf.

– – – – –

currently listening — Black Star, Eliza Lumley