spring comes crashing

I've had too much going on to even scratch on my mini spiral notebook.
My son has been sick with tonsillitis, upper respiratory infection, and reseola. My grandpa is sick with diabetes and a sky-rocketing blood sugar level reaching up to 1000. My aunt is pretty much waiting to be diagnosed with lung cancer. I have inventory at work this Friday. I'm working overtime and running on low amounts of sleep. I'm lacking comfort and inspiration, but hopefully will be back sometime after the shit storm stops. I hope it stops, that is.. or slows down.
I'm still reading everyone, just not up to writing myself. And I do really hate that.

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"I never wear pearls no more"

I sat in the waiting area at my psychiatrist's office yesterday, eavesdropping on a (overly loud) conversation. It was between an eccentric woman and her apparent chauffeur-gopher lady. The eccentric lady captivated me. I wanted to get to know her. She wore dangling earrings with a very tacky all-denim outfit, complete a full denim trench that I am sure she gave full justice at one point in time.
She was so nervous, with shaky hands and grease stains on her pants, yet still held a class about her. You'd have to have seen her in the light I did. Maybe I feel as if I can see 'into' people sometimes. She spoke of a new top she had, but damn it, she didn't have a good pair of dangle earrings to go with it. But the line she muttered that struck me most was "and I never wear pearls no more" It made me want to go over, sit next to her, take her by her shaky hands and tell her to please go home and put on her pearls, that'd she'd look magnificent in them.
She said it in such a longing way, as if she had her last last pearl-wearing moment in the forefront of her mind. Maybe it was the last time she felt wanted, or pretty. Or sane.
Maybe she's not crazy, maybe she's just eccentric. I have chipped nail polish, too, sometimes.

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Happiness is..

No, I won't say a warm gun, though something in me is dying to.

Happiness is the way my son's smile beams in the morning when he looks over at me.
The first sip from the perfect cup of coffee.
Drinking the milk after you've had really good cereal.
Laughing at my husband's humor.
The feeling I have on the day before I have a day off work.
Looking at a beautiful batch of pictures I've just taken and finding my favorites.
Getting (real) mail from someone special and feeling loved.
Running into someone you've genuinely missed and getting a hug.
Being in a different surrounding on a vacation and knowing you have not a single obligation.
Having my husband tell me I'm a good cook.
The first morning it is cold and feels like a proper winter.
Watching my son learn something new.
The way I feel after a great workout.
Date night.
Curling up with a good book and some quiet.
Looking through old cookbooks with my mother in law.
Buying new undies.
Being productive and feeling proud of myself.
Seeing the flowers in my yard bloom year after year.
The cold side of the pillow.
Chocolate.
Good music.

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body talk

An excerpt that struck a cord with me, from a book I'm currently reading, Golden Wizdom: Beyond the Emerald City.

"I want this pain to stop!" I cried out one day.
Much to my surprise, my body responded, "Well, I finally got your attention. Do you know that I have been calling to you in many ways over the years? You wouldn't listen. In fact, you pretended not to hear. For years you have denied your feelings. You have discounted the connection between your mind, body, and spirit."
"Hey, it's a package deal! This is a partnership and we're either all working together or not. You've been working against harmony of your whole self for a long time. It seems you needed to push yourself and me to a point of disease before you would pay attention."
"The road back to harmony within me, your body, is to listen and respond each step of the way. Feelings are the avenue of communication. When your back hurts, it's calling out. Ask what it needs and how you can support it."
"Your physical and emotional feelings are the clues to what needs tending. Allow yourself to feel and express your feelings. Learn to develop a relationship whith all parts of yourself so you know what's going on within your being."
"When one part of us isn't working, the whole of us is affected. Welcome back home. You are invited to reconnect with all parts of your precious body, to honor and respond to your feelings, and to listen and respond with the trust of your heart."

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thoughts I thought today

I was really productive today at work. I was surprised, not that I was productive but that I wanted to be and felt accomplished for corrected fifty-something price discrepancies after auditing the drug/gm department. Better me then the holier than thou head honchos who come in and act like they are God when they find errors and talk down to you about it. Pssh.

I had a lot of time to think. Thinking and working, now that's what I call being productive. Multi-tasking has always been a specialty.

Anyway, I was thinking about how music was and has always been my way to escape into my head, get away from the stress-causing stimuli around me. I find myself, even at work, doing this. When something like Pink Floyd, Skynyrd, Fleetwood Mac, Ozzy, or anyone else remotely enthralling pops onto the work radio, I find myself drifting away, singing along to every word, floating aimlessly in my own world. I become oblivious to the beep-beeps of my scanning gun - yet I still get my job done competently. The music is just in my lungs, brainwaves, perhaps bloodstream, helping to move me along the work load.

I was also thinking back to when I was a teenager, paining my nails and listening to Bush's Sixteen Stone. It was my favorite CD for months, I couldn't take it out of my player. I'm surprised I didn't wear my stereo right out when I was a teenager. All I did was listen to CD's and paint my nails, read and write.
I had shoe boxes full of nail polish, it was a fetish. I had every box lid painted, in -ha! .. nail polish "Heather's Nail Polish" I had to be a sight, jamming to Gavin Rossdale's sexy-as-hell vocals, banging my head ....everything zen everything zen I don't think so... I wanted to marry that guy. I still secretly kind of hate Gwen Stefani for stealing my husband.

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