World peace, or some shit like that
According to iChat, I’ve been at work 13 hours-plus, although I didn’t log in immediately, so that’s my day. My reward? I just literally spent my last dollar (oh, God, the online banking account. It weeps) on a trip out of town. It’s short, it’s sweet, and it’s not anywhere near the Northeast. And it involves two really nice hotels.
I was sort of kicking myself because here it is, Veteran’s Day, and instead of visiting my beloved veteran grandfather in the so-not-beloved Veterans Hospital, I’m working and planning a very small escape. I just need to check out, literally.
It’s funny — I got out of work at a reasonable hour yesterday and didn’t know what to do with myself. Stores were still open. Restaurants weren’t locking their doors as they saw me circling the parking lot. So I went to a local shopping area, just to waste some time before “Grey’s Anatomy.”
This girl was there, trying to promote world peace or some shit like that. I tried so hard to humor her as she went off on her little prepared tangent. I’ve had to do that pitching of whatever gut-wrenching cause I happened to represent, as I did the non-profit circuit for far too many years — so, my sympathy gets evoked because it’s got to suck to talk to people who don’t want to talk to you.
So she brings out a big book full of things I can donate to, and she asked what I think the biggest problem facing the world today is. Without missing a beat, I said, “Republicans — but it looks like they’re our country’s biggest export, so I’m not altogether that worried about the country right now.”
So she tried the international angle, asking me what I am most interested in doing to make a difference. And I said, “Saving me.”
She blinked but recovered quickly. “You’re not interested in what I’m promoting, huh?” she asked.
I said nope — I’ve done the bleeding-heart thing for too long and I didn’t see the return on my investment, so it’s my time to take care of me. I want to save the world — really, I do — but I’m no good unless I have some resources to save it with.
And I don’t.
I just need for my grandfather to hang in there for awhile longer, although the new news is that he took a bad fall and he’s disoriented and helpless — funny how just four weeks ago, he was walking/talking/laughing/doing his own banking/shopping/diabetic testing/etc. He got out of Hellhole Central and was shipped off somewhere else better, but someplace that says Mom will never be able to handle taking care of him by herself when he’s done there.
So, guilt trip express that I don’t live there, but I can’t think much more on it. Because I? Need to be the strong one, and I need to stop and gather my strength before I can lend it to the people who need it from me most.
Thank God I’m still living out of a suitcase — I’m already packed for my trip! Although on the guilt trip express, they have your bags ready and waiting for you at any time of day. …
November 12th, 2006 at 1:29 PM
[…] But more in the “all about me” files: My trip. I want my trip. I need my trip. I cannot stand another minute on the East Coast right about now. I do not want to be lying in a hospital bed being mistreated and having meds withheld and depending on someone to take me to the potty when they don’t want to look at me — I don’t want to be thinking about these precious moments in which I had a chance to escape and have a little bit of goddamned fun for once in my life. […]