Actually, last year, a ranger introduced me and the kids to quite a nice young, clean possum. We’d gone to hear a nature talk at a nearby national park. The possum seemed spunky and genuine, and after the interactive portion of the talk, the ranger folded him up like laundry and put him in a shoebox and toted him away. He didn’t seem to mind.
In our neighborhood, we have a fat trundling ball of possum we see quite often when we drive home late on Wednesdays. He has mastered the art of walking on the grassy side of the curb instead of meandering all suicidal and entitled down the middle of the road. This is how he became an old possum, instead of ending early, like so many of his mange-y, rat-nosed brethren. The kids like to roll down the car windows and yell hello to him. He gives us endearingly worried looks over his shoulder and trundles faster.
Also, I like this commercial possum, even though the animators caused him to blink his eyes sideways in a wrongful and demonic manner.
Those three specific possums are trying to win me out of my natural state of Poscrimination, but it is a long road. If you’ve ever seen an ANGRY Possum hissing and puffing and trying to drive you from your personal garage…gah. It was years ago, and still, and still, I cannot unremember.
Tomorrow I have a REALLY fun interview and a giveaway and such. It was supposed to go up today, but I can’t manage the coding. I fell into chunks yesterday.
2010 was SUCH a wash for me, as years go. I barely remember the first half; I was either sick nigh unto death, having a couple of surgeries, or recovering from them. The second half of 2010, I had the crushing weight of the missing time on me. I LOST five months which put me so behind on work, Good LORD.
I missed a book deadline for the first time EVER and of course this coincided with my long-time editor’s retirement to the world of agenting and trying to make a good impression on a NEW editor (HI! IT’S SO NICE TO MEET YOU! PS, MY BOOK WILL BE MONTHS AND MONTHS LATE!), missed a huge CHUNK of my kids’ lives, let go of my church responsibilities and was barely able to put anything into maintaining my friendships…
Less than a week ago…I caught up. I really, actually, TRULY caught up. I came bursting out of all that crushing weight into the sunshine, and at first I was all like, OH YAY, LOOK I AM BACK IN MY REAL LIFE. But since I spent the rest of 2010 in a constant whir of SCRABBLING, blind with busy-ness, desperate to MAKE A SPACE where I could breathe again…. In all that year, I was not doing ANY sort of maintenance on the mental illness pool.
That pool got black and mossy. Foam sludged up the corners. Mean animals moved in around it. A host of cloudy, translucent eggs, sac-like and flobbulous, encrusted the bottom.
Nothing good was in those eggs. Aquatic cannibal possums, maybe. With bombs.
Yesterday all those eggs hatched. BOOM. All at once, I had all these FEELINGS and you know I don’t like that. I strongly believe Feelings should be like little Victorian Children: mannerly, decorous things that know how to behave at a state dinner.
These were not those kind of feelings.
Here’s just one: I am FURIOUS, did you know that? Yeah, me neither. I am absolutely FURIOUS with God. It’s SO funny, now that I KNOW I am furious with God, I can look at the book I just finished and see that I was WRITING about it; it’s OBVIOUS how angry I am, and yet…In my head?
It was a thematic thread I CHOSE. “I once a long time ago had a fight with God,” I thought cleverly to my cleverboots self. “Wouldn’t it be interesting just NOW when I am so DISTANT from that awful time, to WRITE about that fight? Now that it is OVER, of course, and completely UNrelevant to my current state of being.”
Meanwhile? THE WHOLE TIME I was positively SHAKING with rage. And this is just ONE of about nine huge things I have been secretly feeling for a year, all of which came at me in one fell swoop of mental doom yesterday.
Beloveds, I went to bed. I just….WENT TO BED. I had a regularly long to-do list, nothing like while I played catch-up, but still. I had things that needed to be thunged. I crumpled the list up and tossed it and I took the dog and went to bed and did not get up all day.
He and I had a six hour talk about all this. He is an excellent listener, as long you either are actively engaged in petting his ears or you don’t mind a listener who snores and farts while you natter on. Honestly he should get $210 an hour, that’s how good he is. The dog and I spent all day just in bed parsing out the state of my union, and then Scott came home and he made the dog move over and got in and I talked for several MORE hours; The upshot is, I got out of bed today. I have tentative pool-mucking-plans. I have decided to live.
I feel shaky and new-lamblike, and I can’t code an interview today. Today, I can talk in a silly tone about possums, and really? That’s about all. Or crabs. I can probably talk come about crabs, if pushed.