Wednesday, October 31, 2012

Two cherries and a lemon

The storm called Sandy came and went with loud, damaging winds wreaking havoc everywhere it touched including about two blocks from where I live. I feel like I've once again dodged the natural bullet of a hurricane, having just missed so many growing up in Louisiana. My life, it seems, is rife with situations just like this: I am aware that catastrophe looms but it misses me by a hair. Over and over I pull the lever and end up with three cherries (or maybe like two cherries and a lemon). I suppose this is why I believe that everything always works out: it always does. Won't stop me from worrying however. Worry 'til I die. The weather over the past two days however has been so beautiful, another strange fact of hurricanes and other destructive forces: the world could be falling apart but here comes the sun.

On Sunday night, before the storm hit, I went to the supermarket for some last minute items, which coincidentally consisted of my usual random four or five items (in case you were wondering: pasta sauce, paper towels, kaiser rolls, cinnamon graham crackers). When considering the words I wanted to use in describing the pervading attitude of my fellow Long Islanders, I'm leaning towards: panicked, anxiety ridden, and craving only refrigerated food. Cart after cart passed by filled to overflowing with PERISHABLE AND/OR FROZEN foods. I guess most people just don't understand anything. Even basic things like food spoilage. I overheard a mother and teen aged daughter arguing about what to buy and the teenager told her mother that frozen ice pops would not keep and her mother's response was "they are on sale." I sincerely hope they were some of the lucky ones that never lost power.

I've been off from work for the past three days. Thank fuck I have my power back as it had gone off for about 12 hours, most of that time I was asleep. While I'm relieved I didn't have to brave the downed branches and live wire ridden streets in order to get to work, a huge part of me dreaded being left alone with my own thoughts, without anything to distract me from slowly turning over them, like a pig on a spit. My thoughts will one day slowly roast me until I am a wrinkled, crispy, eyeless version of myself. I actually didn't realize I felt that way until just now. Probably even better that the world has been made with plenty of distraction. However, it also explains why I can never finish anything I start to write. I need to work on that.

Anyway, as of today, two days post storm, I am still not required at work (one of my jobs still has no power) and I still have a lack of will to finish anything. I've come to the coffee shop in the hopes of ridding myself of my home's distractions (cuddling kitties, a stack of DVDs that demand my attention, the best mattress ever (tm), a closet that is badly in need of organization) only to find that the place is packed. Likely most of these coffee patrons are electrically powerless refugees. Or perhaps they are also yearning to escape the silent cacophony of their own thoughts. Either way, they are a pretty good looking bunch. One of the guys here resembles someone you might imagine is a stock broker in the 80s would look like, on the weekends. You know, good looking in that cold, calculating way but wearing jeans. In addition to that, I never quite notice just how dirty my laptop is until I take it out of my house and sit in the glare of natural light, where my screen reveals the myriad thumb and fingerprints and tiny bits of cat hair embedded in the keyboard. I would be embarrassed if I had within me the will to do anything about it. However, the fact that it happens every single time I come here, I've lost desire to take care of it. Maybe when the damn thing breaks down and I get a raised eyebrow from some computer geek will I admit how much of damn dirty failure I am at keeping things clean. But I'll wait until then.

Ok, I'm going to attempt to finish something today. Anything. If i succeed, I will tell you. If not, I'll still probably tell you but I'll be drunk so ignore all the other stuff I'll say.

1 comment:

  1. we got through Sandy unscathed but I remember once when the power was out at my house for a long time, Jeff and I went to Barnes and Noble three towns away, where there was power, and hung out there for hours. so your coffee shop story brought back memories! I think it's a combination of just wanting somewhere to go, and the need for electricity in order to function!