The Ubiquity of Severed Nerves

“Listen to what you know instead of what you fear.” ~ Richard Bach

“You may say you won’t interfere with another person’s soul, but you do—merely by existing. The snag about it is the practical difficulty, so to speak, of not existing.”  ~ Dorothy Sayer

“If I were given the opportunity to present a gift to the next generation, it would be the ability for each individual to learn to laugh at himself.” ~ Charles Schultz

Another drifty morning. I’m getting ready to boost the cat from my lap so I can go look at the mountains for the first time today. As things sit, there are things that could be done but no things that must be done. That’s some pretty good clay from which to sculpt a day. Though I worked my day job yesterday I had two days off before that and today is the beginning of three more consecutive days off. Once again – good clay. I am mostly recovered from the panic attack the other day. The thing that’s been bugging me is that you can try to explain such an attack til the cows come home, but many people are just not gonna get it. I think this is, in part, because the public perceptions of mental illness have been rather severely watered down in the vernacular usage of relevant terms. When a really really really bad headache is a migraine. When erratic behaviour is bipolar. When you overreact to something you have PTSD. Stuff like that. Of course . . . no, wait . . . people trivialize and marginalize mental illness all time. Yet nobody one goes around saying “My stomach really hurts. I think I have a little touch of cancer today”. That says a lot.

Oh, and one more thing, on a similar note. I remember one day a customer commented on my difficulty in getting a specific word out clearly. I told him that I have trouble like that at times because I have a severed nerve in my lower lip. Which I do, and it sometimes gives me trouble with enunciation. He replied “Oh, I think everybody does”. No, dude, they don’t. Now, moving forward . . . if somebody says “it’s like that for everyone” it’s probably not. Geez, I . . . now, moving right along. It’s about time to feed the cat, though she would probably say it’s way too late. Soooo, today I am in search of romance. I’m tempted to say that I’m like that every day, but some days I am just pining, and pining is not the same as longing. Let’s put it this way – if longing is a luscious cheese omelette pining is scrambled eggs with a few chunks of cheese on top. I’d better get along now. The cat has just informed me that her litter box needs to be scooped out. Might as well feed her and change her water while I’m at it. Ya know, sometimes I suspect that she always holds a little back just in case she needs to stink up the room to make an emphatic statement. Some people are . . . oh, never mind. Ciao.

Peace out, y’all. Goof gloriously.

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