I don't even know where to begin tonight. I'm pretty stressed about living alone. My previous desire to live alone has long since faded, about, so now that I'm on my own again, I'm feeling vulnerable to loneliness. Even weirder, is that I work pretty hard at keeping myself busy, which I'm doing a much better job of these days.. Yesterday, I let myself get absorbed in a book all day. I can only guess what Hillary thought, when I answered the door in my underwear, hiding behind the blinds. Probably the same thing you're thinking, that I'm lazy. Whatever, I have to embrace living alone in all of its shameless glory while I have the opportunity. But having to answer the door shamed me into putting on shorts. And, I was so glad I did, because about an hour later there was another knock on the door. This time it was Pat, from my previous home care provider situation. His mother recently passed away, and knowing they were getting rid of all the furniture, I'd appealed to their offer for furniture, with a request for an end table, to go by the futon. Low and behold one appeared. I am feeling quite fortunate, as I haven't had much luck replacing my old one. Of course, when you buy a table for $10, you know it is likely to have a short life.
My being glued to Eat, Pray, Love continued, and I'd planned to just keep reading through the evening. Around 9, my phone rang, and it was a Winnooski neighbor, asking me to watch his kids. This is definitely someone who's one of many people, I need to return a favor to, so I said I would. I have to admit that knowing Simone feels that I'm a competent enough human being to watch their kids, was a reassuring boost I needed.
They all picked me up, and as soon as we walked in the door, the boys got busy finishing their chores, mopping and dishes. I wondered if maybe they should come watch me, to make sure I do all of my chores ...
The younger boy was obsessively reading a comic book, which presented a challenge for me, in terms of figuring out how to keep a light on for me, without providing enough light for him. And it's so difficult to have to consciously tell a kid to put their book down. I know, because I was the same way about reading as a kid.
I'd planned to go home when they returned, but I was already passed out when they returned, and I awoke on the floor in a heap of blankets confused about my surroundings. Eventually, my brain kicked in to the extent it does. When I got back to my empty apartment, I opened windows ant the door for air flow. I put my running gear on, like I had a plan, and promptly read 4 more chapters, and then went to the farmers market. Mainly, I went because I wanted chocolate croissants from the artisan baker. However, he had the audacity to not show up. My sweet tooth was crushed. I stopped to say hi. To most of the vendors. A friend who helps me with a ride to Kirtan, has a tent, and when I stopped by, he invited me to a gathering of that crowd at the beach. I didn't hesitate because it wasa beautiful sunny day, and while I have very little in common, with much of the group, I feel as though this group is unquestionably present in their. Own lives, as well as in their companions. Even though I barely know the majority of the group, I never feel as though I'm bring judged or mocked. People are very accepting. I am more frank and open with them, because they are the same with me, which I really appreciate.
A man sitting nearby asked me if I had a spinal cord injury, no doubt because of my labored movement patterns. Strangely, that was the second inquiry of that kind that day, as I'd explained to a Greek cook, at the farmers maker earlier. It seemed, an intriguing occurrence, to have the same 'diagnosis, twice, in the same day. I understand why though, because it's visually apparent how much effort it takes for me to move. I don't really need to spend time deliberating over potential reasons why, I just decided to be pleased people occasionally illicit an interest or curiosity, and are brave enough to make conversation.
That conversation, made me inquire about his own struggles of a spinal cord injury, and it seemed pretty stating to finally share difficulties with someone who understands, the amount of labor and effort we put forth to accomplish our daily goals.
He professed repeatedly, how much water resistance had been key in his efforts, and suddenly, I found myself parading back and forth through the shallow water, with an arm for balance. He struck me as one of the most inspirational individuals, I've had the privilege of meeting, simply, because of how much he'd overcome, especially, as he was Natively, from India, where his injury occurred, and years later still accomplish his goal if immigrating here, and leading a productive life. I am often so blown away by the work ethic of immigrants I've met. We bitch and moan, about our positions, whatever they may be. While the immigrants I've met recently, often work 3 different manual labor positions, while, still taking pride in their work. That replanted a seed for me, as I'm attacking the workforce, and I want to make absolutely sure that I wind up fulfilled in my position(s) whatever we end up finding, or creating. Although I'm realizing, I do need to make those stepping stones, yet again, (CRAZY frustrating. Michelle helped find a secret shopper type of position, evaluating other employees. Great, until somebody figures me out. Heh.
We also met with NortheastDisabled Athletics, a local organization which works to create a multitude of opportunities, for folks with physicaldisabilities. I'm pretty interested in assisting their mission, as I believe in equal opportunities for all abilities!