The post where I hit you like a ton of those red heavy things
The past two weeks have been, in one word, unsatisfying.
But since when do I stop at one word?
These weeks have been about straws – grasping for them and also breaking backs of camels.
Reaching, arms outstretched, into thin air. Offerings on a silver plate being unappreciated. Hard work not paying off.
Phone calls answered by text or email. Emails not answered period. Helping hands that become a stranglehold.
My helping hands, by the way. My hands reaching, grasping at straws, offering plates.
As a helping hands kind of person, it hits me hard when I am not wanted, not needed, not helpful. And these hands don’t really know what else to do. I try to keep them sitting in my lap, patiently clasped around each other to give them something to do. But it’s inevitable. I see a situation and can’t help but to think that I can do something.
I suppose I am technically doing something. It just doesn’t seem to be helpful to anyone in general, irritates a few specifically, and bruises my ego once again.
I am waiting on lab results for both myself and a pet. I don’t know what outcome scares me more. That they will be inclusive and both myself and my feline will be left adrift in a sea of shrugs, we’ll sees, try this or that and we’ll re-test in a few weeks. Or that they will be definite and earth shattering and life altering. Or that they will say we are both absolutely fine except for getting older and they haven’t made a pill for that yet.
While waiting, I reach out to touch and manipulate and alter those things I can. And if I took a step back, I could see that I am really way more caught up in my own shit to comprehend something else.
And I have taken that step. See: the last sentence. But what to do when knowing is not half the battle won? When you dish out seconds, well aware they are sloppy?
The truth is, it sometimes gets lonely waiting. Whether it’s for a bus, test results or the one. So could I just curl up on your monitor for a few minutes? Thanks.