That's what she said to him, having caught him on the phone just as he walked in the door. She had a handful of pills, again, and they were next on the to-do list.
***
Yeah, December was the last time I cried. It's difficult to do. I don't have anything against it, but tears don't come easily. I heave and shudder and feel like an engine that's gone unstarted for too long. The rhythm lurches and falters, and something should be taking off but it doesn't. Let go, I tell myself. Chuck the self-consciousness, even though you know Kelli will see what you've been doing and want to talk about it. And by the time she sees it you'll be done and would rather not get into it anyway.
***
I have it. I was there beside the crib, listening to my daughter, my joy, my innocent tour guide as she cried her sad bedtime tears. I have it.
Bedtime is all it was, but the sheer sadness that tiny person could project, only 10 months out of the womb... it triggered something in me. I have it.
***
God I let THEBOY drag out bedtime tonight, but it was joyful to just lose myself in the sweet narrations of the little sovereign in his room. He beat the drums with abandon, threw the soft baseball to me, and impressed me with his ability to get his Lion King talking book gizmo to warble its microchip wonders. I'm going to guess that perspective is a key component in the coping process, and let me tell you, nothing gives you perspective like watching a little boy sit in his bed with a flashlight night after night, lost in books just like you when you were a kid.
***
They tell us in class that every person has an emotional range. People have their own natural top and end bottom end, and the danger comes when hitting their bottom makes them self-destructive. I'm talking about suicide. And the teachers claim there's a level below that which is basically complete lethargy. On the one hand, it's not as dangerous, because its sufferers tend to be unable to get out of bed and actually destroy themselves. But then again, they will come out of the worst depression at some point, and are quite likely to pass through a suicidal period on their way back towards stability.
My bottom end doesn't go that low, thankfully. Never has. I'm angry, disappointed, sorry, and feeling pretty dumb at the moment. But great Seamus McSwiney, man... it's only TV.
***
Maybe I'd be a stunner at this, utterly perfect, if I had much respect for television at all. I don't know if anyone there quite realizes exactly how far-removed from Fox programming my personal life is. Heck, I finally even agree that the Simpsons is way overdue to come off the air.
***
So tomorrow will tell me a lot. I'm tired of pulling together the memos and the email scripts detailing who said what and when. None of it matters at all, and if the aim is to focus the blame then buddy, I should be right in their sites. Hit me with your best shot.
***
Notice how this job pulls me from high to low so quickly? I'm supposed to get a commendation next month, as I've mentioned way too much already. Can I pull a George C. Scott and refuse it on principle?
***
Thank you Kelli, and Amanda and Whit and Hood for raising your fists, for believing in me and liking me enough to support me.
***
Happy.
Tuesday.
Maybe.
Or
at
least
better
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3 comments:
And thank you Llorca!
Geez, man, I just read about the alleged "screw-up"...considering that you weren't the only one to look at the work and not catch the error, I'd say you're hardly to blame. But they're obviously looking for a scapegoat, and a guy who's never been happy at Belo will make a dandy one. But if it shakes down the way you suspect, will you really be that broken up about it? The loss of income will suck, but at least you won't be under the devil's yoke anymore. Good luck either way, brother.
Michael
At this point, frankly, I'll be disappointed if they don't fire me. I'm fully ready for the change this would force. But they have to pull the trigger; BB needs his unemployment dinero.
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