A pox on whoever introduced the acacia tree into North America. Those fuckers are evil. Some time during the night, every acacia tree in Oakland bloomed simultaneously, and now everything is covered in that pernicious yellow dust to which all living things are allergic. I had to hose off my car so I could see out the windows to drive to work this morning, and by the time I got to the office there was another thin layer of yellow in all the corners and folds of the chassis.
Of course I took a Sudafed as soon as I saw the yellow dust on the car... for me, the yellow dust means immediate and unrelenting sinus pain, so I forestalled it as best I could. Unfortunately, in my terrified haste, I took the wrong Sudafed: I should have hunted for the blue daytime non-drowsy pill, but instead I just took the pink pill that is not non-drowsy. And since "non-drowsy" is just one of the many horrid lies perpetrated by the pharmaceutical giants, non-non-drowsy means that it will put you immediately to sleep. Nighty night!
We all know, though, that the only difference between a drowsy pill and a non-drowsy pill is the caffeine, so I bought a big cup of coffee on the way in, and that helped some. I also doubled my vitamins, and am drinking plenty of cold water. But helpful as all this is, I am still feeling sleepy and more than a little bit stupid. And now as the afternoon advances, the caffeine and vitamins have worn off but the pseudephedrin lingers on. So I think I'll just stop trying to work.
But, oh, I can't! Though I have done enough at the office to be able to leave guiltlessly at four p.m., once I get home I have to do housework. The Grandmother is coming home from her trip tonight, and there are dishes to wash and rugs to vacuum before she arrives. While it certainly shouldn't surprise her that I didn't wash any dishes while she was gone (hell, I've hardly used any dishes, limiting myself to two cereal bowls, four coffee cups, two water-glasses, one butter-knife and a couple of forks and spoons over the last seven days), it has long been my tradition, when Grandmother goes out of town, to clean house right before she comes back.
This tradition started long ago, when I used to smoke and drink in the house as soon as she was gone, and so had to do a fairly thorough cleaning to get rid of all the telltale smells. But now that I don't do either of those things, I still feel it necessary to give her a cleaned house to come home to... it's just a nice thing to do for someone. I mean, you get off an uncomfortable airplane after a week of sleeping in hotels, and the last thing you want to deal with at home is a sink full of dishes and sheets that need changing.
Well, if I'm going to get all that done before Grandmother's flight comes in at ten, I had better get on home. Maybe if I organize things properly, I'll be able to take a little nap first... I don't know if I'm awake enough to make it home, much less stand over a sink and wash things. God, how I hate acacia season!
Speaking of God, allow me to go off on a total tangent. I was complaining last week, not specifically in my prayers but generally during my meditations, that I was feeling lonely. Caroline's new boyfriend takes up a lot of her time, so I haven't seen much of her in the last few weeks (I'm accustomed to seeing her at least twice a week, if not every day), and I hadn't heard from any of my other friends lately; and now Grandmother's out of town, and though I've been going to more AA meetings in order to see people, and have had shows where I got to spend a little time with friends, it just wasn't enough. I felt sad and ignored and just plain old lonesome.
So anyway, I was feeling lonely, and I said so out loud, though not in a particular prayer. Then this weekend, I've heard from almost all of my oldest friends, one after the other. I got a postcard from Becky in Florida letting me know that she'd survived the hurricanes (though she had to move temporarily, as her house was damaged), then I heard from Indigo that he was back in town from his peripatetic job and had some time on his hands, and then as I was getting ready to go over to Indigo's I got a call from Fred in Virginia! And these are all people I've known since high school. Then while I was out with Indigo in the Castro, we ran into Shiloh, as well as a couple of more casual acquaintances in various places.
I guess God was listening to me bitch about being lonely, and gave me this serendipitous gift to shut me up. And though it was lovely to hear from so many old friends in such a short time, it suddenly occurs to me that I should have complained about being broke, while I was at it... so maybe God would send me a nice check, too. But then, God doesn't usually send cash, it's always a present of some kind, usually home-made.
Now I'm just babbling. But I wanted to be grateful out loud for all of my friends, and the fun of hearing from so many of them in one day, before I go home and collapse on the couch while cursing the name of Acacia.
Must nap now. Nighty night!