Friday, September 04, 2009

I got a massage this morning and my therapist took off both of my arms. I have tennis elbow which is weird because I have never played tennis. She thought my arms needed to be replaced so she is scanning the neighborhood for newer, better arms and I am typing with my toes. It's slow going.

It is a bright sunny September Seattle day but I feel suspicious because we had a horrible heat wave back there a bit and now I flinch whenever I see sun. Will it kill me? Will the house/car heat up so much I will feel like I am gasping for air with an uncontrollable need to fling myself into the lake immediately? Cool rainy overcast good, sun bad.

Next on the agenda, my therapist therapist, whom I haven't seen for three weeks. We need to catch up. I usually go thinking I have nothing to talk about and leave her office snuffling and whimpering. I once thought I would be 'all better' but apparently there are just more layers. My friend just bought a house on the edge of a greenbelt which was used as an unofficial dump. Tires, empty bleach bottles by the score, more tires, antique farm implements, an anchor (?), kitchy porcelain cows/pigs/ducks etc., even a wood burning stove sunken into the garden. And an overlay of black berries and morning glory. It's like a midden. Or my interior life.

4 comments:

Radish King said...

What a coincidence! I was typing with my breasts just this morning and here you are typing with your toes! Imagine that!

beth coyote said...

We are soooo effing talented!

Valerie Loveland said...

Your friend's house sounds like the kind of house I like. There are islands in the Boston Harbor. I visited a couple of them, and the one I liked best was a beach type resort that used to be a dump. I liked knowing that there was that kind of stuff underneath.

beth coyote said...

substrata of old tires and Barbie dolls...