Aug 30, 2005

Mind Stream

You know what's weird? When I walk to work, my feet slide around
inside my shoes but sometimes, by the end of the day after working at
my desk, I can't squeeze them back in! What tha? What would cause
that?

Today it's 97% humidty here. I am strongly opposed to this. Please
make it stop. Or turn on the giant A/C in the sky. Something. My
sticky face is sprouting a garden of zits.

I made it to work by the 12:00 goal time after walking leisurely,
stopping to deposit my meager paycheck and then applying for personal
loan for my next stop at Starbucks. My Espresso Frappachino and rice
krispy treat left me a whopping 44 cents from the $8 in my hungry
wallet. And why DO I feel so much more compelled to tip there than
any other place on the planet? Some sort of nefarious subliminal
programming inside the funky feel-good music? I don't know, but
SOMETHIN's going on. That's for sure. I fought the power and kept my
damm 44cent today. Shiat. Screw that. Girl's gotta save, ya know?
That could be a future Rice Krispy Treat down payment!

I beat the boss in. Yes! Alone time for Stevie! (Wonder, that is.)
He's my man and makes everything allright.

oops. phone.

Back. Bossman's brother-in-law from "The Cape." Cape cod? The
boss said Cape Cod (is that how you spell it?) is a very popular
vacation site. And exclusive. Apparently no rift-raft to bother the
rich people? He laughed at me when I told him I wasn't familiar with
the place or where it was.

Ha. Ha. Ha. Just hilarious!

Pft.

Last night I had a dream that my parents and brother were mocking me
and wouldn't stop laughing. I was outraged! Furious! Hurt! I
demanded that they stop which incited even greater bursts of laughter
at my foolishness. When I woke up I was still shaken. What does it
mean? I felt terribly hurt and misunderstood. Ganged up on. Well,
actually - I often did feel ganged up on growing up - my family united
against me. But, why am I dreaming about that now, I wonder?

Actually, the bossman is frequently condescending. But, I've
discovered through old emails sent by past (female) clients similar
complaints which affirms and reminds me what I ought to be focusing on
anyway - not taking it personally. I find it to be a good challenge
and tool to work on grounding myself. Otherwise, he seems to be a
very nice man. Friendly, but prone to outbursts. His regular
reference to his marital problems keeps me alert to future
inappropiate boundary violations - but so far - no sign of such.
Past experiences inform me to remain hyper aware. Beware of
middleaged married men - I've found them to be a highly unstable lot.

He should be in any time and I will quickly click "send" and log-out
without editing most likely. This is a free-for-all post - because
what the heck. Why not.

I could barely stay awake on the hour long subway ride this morning.
I think I took about 20 2-minute naps in between stops. When the
train screeched to each stop I sort of jolted awake and pulled my
heavy lids up for a blurried half-hearted effort to stay awake.
Something about the motion lulls me to sleep like a baby. It's as
mezmerizing as a Starbucks tip jar. I try to keep my bag on my lap
and let my arms fall on top - just in case some fellow passenger is
interested in relieving me of my .44 cent filled wallet I'll wake up
when they strike - but shit - when i think about it - more power to
them! There's more spare change where that came from. Sometimes
people will walk onto your crowded car, clear their throats and begin
in what sounds like a stage voice a well-rehearsed begging
presentation detailing their destitute background and conditions all
leading to a request for money. What I've observed so far is that
they are almost completely ignored. Including by myself. Which feels
funny. Why? I don't wanna be a sucker? I don't want to stick out?
(I'm advised by my brother that its very important to not stick out
in NY or you become a target. I've been perfected me
mean-don't-fuck-with-me-i'll-fuck-you-up-cuz-i-don't-give-a shit
face.) We assume it's a sham, (I assume.) And if its not? What
if we knew it was true and continued to ignore it? I wonder what
it's like to be homeless in NYC.

Should I start work now?

All day I think of things I want to blog about. And then every night
when I'm able to sit and blog I'm blank.

I wouldn't mind getting one of those nifty keypad things like Seakitty
has to post from my phone. What a cooooool invention.

I've been reading Qi Gong and Buddhist literature on the ride lately.
I want to get grounded. I need to refocus. I need to be a better
person. I haven't like myself lately. I've been to self-centered.
Too emotional. Too filled with needs when really what feels good in
my being is giving. That's when I feel most right about being in the
world. That's when I feel the least anxiety and fear - when I am
focused on being fully "there" for other people. Loving. And
virtuous. This might be a slightly more challenging endeavor in New
York City. But conversely, perhaps especially rewarding.

There are these awesome drummers that have twice entered the train
which I was commuting in. In a flurry, they entered, unfolded their
plasic chairs, positioned their large instruments before them and
exploded into a full-scale thundering, racous rythym. Undeterred by
the lack of acknowledgment of straight-faced commuters, their taped
fingers pounded out the syncopated funk without abandon. The beats
rippled through me and made we want to jump up and hoot! Instead, I
too sat - gaze steadily fixed between two fellow sheep at my
reflection in the blackened window.

This time when they passed the hat, performer-prophetHe comforted,
"Don't worry if you're afraid to smile. It's ok." He asked us not
sacrifice our essential selves to world of computers. He advised us
to be human - that it was important.

It was such a good point I was moved to contribute something. As they
walked down the aisle of the masses, I fretted and debated - should I
reach into my African weaved bag and make an offering? But I only
have change? But that doesn't matter? It would be a gesture from the
heart. And isn't that the point? When he passed me still
prophesizing and chatting on, I made not motion, frozen in indecision.
Next time - I told myself. This time I'll have to settle for sending
good energy. That's what I can do for now - and so I won't berate
myself. Little steps. Imperceptible to others, but you know when
something shifts internally. You know. And I think that's what
counts.

I'm want to be as nice to myself as I want to be to others. I think
that will further my compassion.

Uhoh.. Gotta fax something... I don't know what the guy on the phone
was talking about... Duty calls....

5 comments:

Matt said...

I can relate to the falling asleep on the train. Even when I've slept a lot, the train lulls me to sleep anyway. I find in the even that I fall asleep in about 10 to 15 seconds. Luckily, I haven't yet woken up too far away from my destination.

Yvette said...

the last time i fell asleep on the train, someone put gum in my hair...

Matt said...

You must ride the Blue line. No one does that on the Red or Purple lines.

Hannah said...

LOL Nice stories! And I knwo that falling asleep.... you just can't let go but you want to...

Just as long as you don't fall asleep at work.

Now reading your post makes me think of things I wanted to write down but it's really past my bed time...

IB said...

Tevety Bloo - No Way! That's terrible!

Zataod - So -no one puts gum in hair? Or no one rocks out/begs.....?

Hannah - Still waiting for your stories! =)