the dime things turn on

I have other things to blog about. I’m behind, actually. I actually have a particular habit of telling a particular person I’m going to do something and then futzing out because I get sick. So I have a few things to do.

Actually, I have a ka-ZILLION things to do and no brain to do it in. I can feel it sooooo slooooowly coming back; but it’s a gradual process. I should be through the whole medical silliness I allude to sometimes in the next eleven weeks or so; but who’s to say?

Here I am though, thinking about these things. These little things. And worrying over people and my STUFF with them. It’s more important that I am in a state of okayness. A state of rest. A state of balance. I knew this yesterday.

People get into near misses all the time. I have problems that make me feel a lot of complicated things about life. But a person almost killed me on the road yesterday. I braked. That’s essentially it. If I hadn’t braked, I would be in the hospital with something wrong; if lucky. Or dead. If lucky. Anything directly under that is unlucky, and the luck increases once you get to the point under “I’m incapacitated, but can still write songs and play the piano as normal” … over that, I will have a hard time feeling much about my existence. I would learn, but it would be a Hard Thing.

Next January, it will be the 20th anniversary of my stepmother’s death. I drive down the road where she died every day. If the road looked like it does today, with all the shops and development; it wouldn’t have happened. There’s lights and a median. It was essentially a country road. But a woman who will never forget that day and whose name I don’t remember reached down to steady her coffee and drifted into my stepmother’s car. Both the passengers in the hit car died; my stepmother instantly. The other woman, survives.

And she may have looked up quicker. My stepmom may have swerved somehow. These are the dimes things turn on. My dime could have been so different. Dimes are so thin.

As well as thinking about death or injury, I wonder how things would be here. What would I leave behind? Am I READY to go? Have I DONE enough? I pulled over to the next road and felt this horrible sense of loss and fear because I am NOT ready to go and I have MUCH more to do. I need my brain and my body to cooperate with me and I wish that I had control over the stoplights. I wish that I had control over the random satellites that fall from the sky.

It is all too easy to judge. I know why the idiot on the wrong side of the road didn’t kill me; because I know I’ve been such a nervous and jumpy little thing lately. I thought, there is no purpose for your paranoia, your hyper-vigilance. Nothing is going to happen to you. That feeling on the back of your neck is nothing.

Fate. God. Who knows why these things happen? My blog purposely doesn’t deal with this. I have my thoughts. I do not discuss them unless I am in places of safety. But I do know that much, much later – because my father had quite a bit of thinking, mourning, living, and being to do; he got married again. Strangely, the day after the day I DID not die on a road parallel to that OTHER street – it is my father’s wife’s birthday.

My stepmother.

No one can replace a person, but maybe there is something preventing horrible things from happening sometimes. Even though sometimes, you hear about these horrible things happening in serial like the one that didn’t just then.

Maybe it’s a sign for me. Heaven knows I’ve ignored enough of the positive ones to need a crack over the head. Whatever is sending them.

Maybe this is partially what angers the dryads whose land our house was built upon; and upon whom we impose our technology so that we must make offerings of gnome statuettes.

Anyway, the feeling of being watched and of another shoe about to be dropped is gradually dissipating.

And I’m feeling a little more .. relaxed.

the dime things turn on

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