It is Sunday – I love Sunday. It's my day. It's our day.
My love and I don't get to do and spend allot of time together…mostly I work away from home…and mostly she's at home working – and taking care of me…(truth be told).
But Sundays – I am home and we are together – true, usually working, writing, running errands…and maybe even making each other just a bit crazier then we already are. And yes, we are both a bit crazy, although each in our own way…But, I will not write about her brand of crazy – not here…this blog is mine, all mine…and any crazy that comes out as if from her, well…that really is just the way I see it – Like I said…my own brand of crazy.
Sometimes I do forget that crazy or not, the way we live is not altogether accepted by all…I forget that even our closest friends are not necessarily comfortable with the life that we lead and even more to the point, some are most definitely uncomfortable that I write and talk about our lives - …Now, I do expect allot from those I love and those who love me…and I guess I expect allot from those who chose to read my blog…
You may have noticed that my blog is not always just about 'my life in this world' but is also about my other lives… my fantasy life, my dream life and my desired life. The place where we have Cowanders and orange plastic tents, the place where those I've lost are alive and those I dream sit next to me on the couch….My worlds can be and most often are, actually quite blurred sometimes, especially in my writing- and I guess in my mind.
I often expect my heroes and my friends to actually be these people that I fantasize that they are…it's a tall order. ..and I suppose not quite fair---so to those of you who are interested and who aren't afraid of my various lives – both real and fantasy, I hope you will continue to enjoy LesbosOnTheCouch…I know that this is my intent…
As I said before, today my love works at home while I schlep every morning-but it wasn't always like that. Once upon a time, I worked from home and tried to take care of my love while she schlepped and this is what I remember.
I remember it well, the perfect day to clean the house. The dust has reached the level – that perfect level. You know, just enough dust that can be seen – and therefore would be missed after being wiped off the TV screen (oh, dust…) A consistently consistent smattering of popcorn kernels, sand and some unidentified once upon a time food particles mixed with dust bunnies.
Since I was raised a female, I must obviously and intuitively know about the workings of all household appliances. Housecleaning couldn’t be simpler – obvious and clear to all, especially the woman raised from the female girl type. It goes without saying that a vacuum cleaner – you know, the kind that doesn’t have a bag…should be taken apart and emptied outside … – So, I don’t know, I don’t have those genes or background…I think I’ve said before that ‘normal’ and ‘regular’ aren’t words generally used to describe me….
I opened the vacuum cleaner right there in the house in the kitchen, next to the refrigerator and sink. And as I open this vacuum cleaner, I watch – in slow motion – as the dirt – yes, DIRT – and soot and G-d knows what else, magically take flight like a cloud of – SOOT!!!! I watch as this cloud of soot lands with amazing precision on the kitchen cabinet, covering all of the dishes in the sink, the stove, the clean pots and pans, the floor, the table – everything covered with a beautifully thick, even layer of SOOT.
As I run from sink to table with the filter in my hand, like an open artery, spurting more and more SOOT in every direction, I at last think about the bathroom and there I run. The trail of soot, snow-like but grey-brown follows my every step. The bathroom, where else would one go if one was carrying an open artery of soot – straight to the shower….Ahhh…water must be the answer. Water cleans all wounds. Relief – momentarily fueled by an apparently, hasty flash of hope – is quickly dispelled (too bad this was not the case for the soot). As the soot flows off the filter and splatters mud – sooty mud, all over the shower and sink, walls, toilet, shower curtain and me – I take a deep breath, and pull my back out.
So, there you are honey. That is why the house is well, so covered in filth. I did try to clean…but as you now have explained to me – you must know – no, IT DID NOT OCCUR TO ME TO OPEN THE VACUUM CLEANER OUTSIDE.
Many things don’t occur to me…I am like that, I just don’t think the way everybody else does. I forget things. I remember strange things, and I suddenly remember even stranger things! (Like the time I made my best friend Angelica measure her nose, her mother’s nose and her sister’s nose to see which was bigger…strange.)
So, it’s been weeks now, maybe months…I can no longer tell. Every night we get in bed and after a few seconds, there it is….BEEP. Every night I vow that tomorrow I will look again for that BEEP…and after some time, maybe an hour, maybe half an hour, there it goes again, BEEP.
It’s not like I don’t hear it during the day. Hell, I spend the whole day sitting at the computer writing. I am in the house, in the room and there it is, BEEP. If it was a constant BEEP, or even a longer, BEEEEEEEP, then, maybe I would remember to find it when I actually could hear it. Think about it. One BEEP, every half hour to an hour…Some sort of bizarre Chinese water torture without the water and without constant annoying drip, drip, drip…Just, BEEP and that’s it for the next 30 minutes or so.
Anyway, annoying…yes, quite… while I am cleaning the house, I look under the bed, behind the shelves, under the desk. I take out every box and open every drawer. I take apart every gadget and check every outlet. Maybe it’s some sort of weird bird or newly evolved partially mechanical cricket. Maybe it’s my landlord trying to get us to leave so they can raise the rent…Maybe it’s in my mind and my wife is just placating me and doesn’t actually hear it herself. It woke me up in the night, but not her.
Another day, I am sitting by the computer, writing…I am sitting by the computer staring out into space contemplating all of the work I have left to do and thinking about how hard it is to concentrate and focus…BEEP! But wait…my heart is filled with hope. The BEEP is followed by another BEEP just 15 minutes later!
I know that today will be the day. I finish editing the last article on my schedule for the day. The BEEPs are getting closer and closer together. I may be crazy, but I think, “There must be a God who loves me. He will lead us to the BEEP today, at long last. I will sleep through this night …”
Maybe I celebrate too soon. There is another 30-minute break in between the BEEPs. My honey comes home and finds me curled up on the couch, stressed and weepy…She reminds me that she has vowed to help me through all of life’s trials. She brings me some chocolate ice cream and starts to search herself. She finds many things…my fuzzy grey sock, the sunscreen from last summer, my phone book…ahhh, now we’re getting somewhere, she says…
She brings out an old palm pilot, a hearing aid (yikes, whose is that?), an ancient cell phone and a smoke alarm. All of these things would indeed BEEP if their battery was running low. My hero! She removed the batteries from ALL of these gadgets…and the BEEP was gone.
My mind was once again free to wonder and remember irrelevant, strange bits of my history…I could go back to writing and trying to work the various appliances that fill our home. Life is good.
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