Wednesday, February 15, 2006

I Suck

Today was a total waste of a day and I failed in every conceivable way one can fail without it coming to the attention of anybody. I'm a shitty feminist, because, even though I have all these grand ideas for what a world respectful of me is supposed to look like, when I'm faced with real-life situations where I'm not being treated right, I just sit there and take it. I'm not getting any work done at work because my heart just isn't in it. It's nothing against work. Shoot, you read my posts today. My heart isn't in this either. Where is my heart? That is a good question, folks, because I just don't know. It's adrift somewhere and I'm adrift without it. When we were in grad school together, Miss J. loved this poem by Czeslaw Milosz called "To My Daimonion" and the middle part goes like this: My daimonion, it is certain I could not have lived differently I would have perished if not for you. Your incantation Would resound in my ear, fill me, And I could only repeat it, instead of thinking About my bad character, the decline of the world, Or about a lost laundry ticket. And it seems that while others loved, Strove, hated, despaired, I have only been busy with listening intently To your unclear notes, to change them into words. I had to accept my fate, called today karma, For it was as it was, though I did not choose it-- And get up every day to honor the work, Even if there is no guilt of mine in it and no merit. I'm not very good at analyzing poetry, but tonight I'm jealous of Milosz. My head hurts, my gut hurts, my soul hurts and when I listen quietly for guidance about what I should do with my small shitty life, nothing comes. I also am missing out on love, striving, hate, and despair, but if there are unclear notes waiting for me to change them into words, today I don't hear them. But it's okay. I'm going to make myself some dinner and watch a little TV and go to bed. Tomorrow will be better. Or not. But I'll feel better about things, because this day will be behind me.

11 Comments:

Blogger Lee said...

This too shall pass.

Hope you feel better tomorrow.

2/15/2006 06:21:00 PM  
Blogger Kat Coble said...

I totally misread that to read "when we were in grade school..."

and I wondered what elementary teacher would assign that reading.

Hope you have a better tomorrow...

2/15/2006 07:30:00 PM  
Blogger bridgett said...

I love my damn onion too. But not as much as my damn garlic. (I just love redneck poetry.)

2/15/2006 08:01:00 PM  
Blogger Aunt B said...

All right, Bridgett, any more comments like that and you're either going to have to change your name to Baubo or marry me or both.

2/15/2006 08:02:00 PM  
Blogger SuperGenius said...

Dude. You know you can analyze the hell out of your buddy Whitman. :)

I'm thinking noticing the contradictions between one's feminist thoughts and how things sometimes play out outside one's head doesn't make one a shitty practitioner of the blessed philosophy, just a thoughtful and honest one.

Better to listen to unclear notes than to ignore them all. Tell those ghosts of the civil war to forget about your can opener and go out to get you some liquor and delicious snacks.

2/15/2006 09:06:00 PM  
Anonymous Solange said...

I don't even know you but I kinda love you. I come here every day just to read you, no matter how sad or not-sad you are. I hope this helps :)

2/15/2006 09:28:00 PM  
Blogger Yankee T said...

I'm sorry you're down, B, because you make the day for a lot of us out here.

2/15/2006 10:57:00 PM  
Blogger Plimco said...

At least you don't have paper cuts covering every inch of your body. That would suck.

2/16/2006 09:09:00 AM  
Blogger HUCK said...

Me and the gang all chipped in and got you something back on WTFH.

2/16/2006 09:46:00 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Oh, B, I love that poem, as you know. I sent my copy that I had on my wall since 1998 to my dad a while back, when he was struggling with what to do with his life. I'm not sure he "got" it. He was probably troubled that his daughter seemed to be suggesting that he listen to something that sounded like a "demon." But he has figured things out since then and now has a job, even if it's in a new city and far away from his comfort zone.

I feel like you followed your daimonion to where you are today. But maybe it's telling you to move on. Or maybe that it's time to change something about the way you approach your job. I don't know. I hope you feel better, though. And I look forward to seeing you in Brokeback Valley! Maybe you'll discover that theater is what your daimon wants you to do.

Miss J

2/16/2006 11:17:00 AM  
Blogger Aunt B said...

Miss J.,

You are my wise friend. I'd not considered that my unhappiness might actually be the message and not just a result of having no message.

2/16/2006 03:14:00 PM  

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