dreaming

I've always wanted to be part of a large family,
cousins and aunts and nephews,
kids everywhere and people to spend Christmas with.
People to remember your birthday, share common
heritage and support you.For many years it's just been
'us three', it has made me long to give something
different to my own children one day.

Yet here I am, years on, and I find myself
involved (seriously?) with a man who has only one
brother to whom he speaks even less than I speak to my
estranged half brothers.
I can't help thinking This is Not a Good Sign

25 Apr 2007 21:59

so i'm sitting here writing the boring report of dullness
not far to go i keep telling myself
not too much further

and i look up to see that it's half nine.
in the holidays the studios close at 8:30
they lock the studios at 9

and here i am in the library .
my coat
my bag
my door keys
all in the studio

so i run out of the library and into the corridor
all the lights are off
but i don't stop to find the switches
i know this corridor
dark or light
i use it ten times day

and then i come up against a locked door
so i run back the way I've come
suddenly the dark is oppressive
i cant tell how far Ive come
I'm panicking
I'm still running
my chest tightens
i notice the wheeze on my breath
by the time i get up to the security desk I'm rasping
i can hardly speak to explain myself
keys, i manage, in the studio
and my inhaler, i add
as my throat contracts
i know i have to calm down

the guard calls the one locking up my corridor on the radio
he asks him where he is
then takes me down to meet him

i recognise him
from last time i did this
i worry that he recognises me
i cant catch my breath
but I'm apologising over and over

we have to go round the long way
my chest is heaving
my breath is burning
by the time we get through all the locked doors
I'm desperate
I'm on my knees in front of my locker
ripping at my bag
junk rolling out onto the floor
lip balm, lighter, polos,

the world's is narrowing around the edges
darkening

finally my inhaler
i usually hate this thing
but the panic is rising and I'm so glad to clutch it in my hand

first attempt fails
something's stuck in the nozzle
clearing it seems to take years
and then i get a clear blast
and it begins to recede
the world opens out again

my hands are shaking from the salbutamol
my knees are weak from the adrenalin
my vision hazy from the lack of oxygen

I've made it all the way back to the library
but strangely i don't feel like doing any more work on my report.....

mouse tale

Cat spent ages attacking the mouse whilst I was trying to work.
Lurking and pouncing. Trying to make sure it didn't escape.
Now he's worn himself out, he's decided the best way to make sure
that neither I nor the mouse get away is to go to sleep on my hand.
And Snore.

a little story

18th August 2005

let me tell you a story from a couple summers ago , it goes like this;

Almost had an asthma attack last night, inhaler wasn't doing anything.
thought to go wash my face, calm down. Came across huge house spider in
hallway. Fled back to room wheezing even worse.
Wedged towel in gap under bedroom door.
Called a friend, calmed down a bit, managed to navigate corridor with
a torch and boots on. Had a drink of water, washed face, navigated
corridor back to bedroom (at high speed) took more Ventolin.
Eventually fell asleep.

Woke in the morning to J playing the Fugees (of all things) Far. Too.
Loud. Banged on door looking bedraggled, made him shut it up (some).
Told him had bad night, explained. He told me he'd come across huge
spider in shower with him this morning (hah, I thought- spider had also been
making way to have a splosh in the bathroom!)
asked 'where spider was now?'
'gone' he says.
'didn't kill it did you?' I ask
'no' he says.
'but it is gone?'
'yes'
' Gone gone?' I check.
'Gone Gone' he assures me.

I flop about for a bit, have a cup of tea then head for shower. Double
check no arachnids lurking (poke shower curtain, check plug hole)
Think 'better have a wee before shower', lift toilet lid, scream, drop
toilet lid.
Unhappy looking spider floating in loo. Panic, flush loo.
Check for spider. Poor spider still there looking up at me
reproachfully. Feel guilty. How could think of flushing poor arachnid?
Try and think. Curse J loudly. Leave bathroom.

Open back door as wide as will go, ensure no obstacles in corridor,
turn on all lights to ensure non trippage.
Return to bathroom wearing rubber gloves, big boots and armed with a garden cane,
(a long one!) a tupperware box and a homebase catalogue.
Placed tupperware into basin. Fish spider out of loo with cane and
deposit him into tupperware. Making sure he's recovering in the bottom
of the box not flailing legs in way, slam catalogue on top.
Try to resume breathing.
Put down cane.
Pick up box ( still wearing gloves) and firmly holding on the
catalogue make my way towards back door . Chanting mantra of 'Am
independant woman, Can handle damp spider, spider is More afraid of me
than I am of him' etc etc.

Proceed to very end of garden, put down box. Do deep breathing
exercises, try not to have next asthma attack. Remove catalogue. Try not to
squeal like inane handbag bint.
Becomes obvious that damp miserable , spider can't climb out of
box. Return to bathroom for garden cane and shove box over to edge of
plant pot, tip box over so spider falls out, but box catches and leans
on plant pot so does not fall and squash him.
Spider sits there panting and giving me the evil eye, try to explain
that it's all J's fault, spider clearly doesn't care for my
explanation and blames me for whole ignoble adventure.
I remove tupperware box and flee, locking backdoor behind me (spider
looks pretty miffed)

Take off protective clothing and find large piece of paper.
leave following message on J's bedroom door;

______________________

J,

could you please NOT
LEAVE DISTRAUGHT HALF
DROWNED SPIDERS
IN THE LOO

thanks
______________________

existence

I exist.
Quietly, over here, in my corner.
I might be invisible sometimes,
but I am certainly real.