This morning I felt a little like Sister Maria, running late to rosary in shoes a size too big, breaking my rosary beads in my hair, & otherwise failing spectacularly at basic adult behaviour. My brain has been Very Very Bad all this week, thanks to rapid changes in weather, which of course means drastic changes in barometric pressure. If you have migraines or a bad joint, you know what I mean.
I am also fairly certain I didn’t lock my car in the church parking lot. Thankfully, nobody seems to have wanted anything out of a banged up Sonata.
Oh! And that’s just reminded me that I ought to check the mail for the insurance cheque. Bloody hell. I’m in my nightgown, so I’ll go tomorrow. If I remember.
Chronic neurological issues are very strange. From your perspective, I am probably a somewhat dotty, awkward person who says inappropriate things at the worst times & seems like a wobbly, fidgety thing at others. Inside my own head, I am screaming “NO. Stop that,” in much the same way a mother leaps in seeming slow motion from across the room when she sees her toddler start to pull a wedding cake on to the floor.
My Outward Brain horrifies my Internal Brain more than it horrifies you. Believe me.
This is why sometimes I just don’t talk.
I have fairly good control over my behaviour, which is a relief. You will not catch me being intentionally unkind, unless I am tweeting about today’s half time show. But really, it was asking for it.
You won’t catch me being unpleasant to retail persons or wait staff. You won’t see me walk past someone in need unless I am heading with haste to another person in more need. Or I don’t have any money on me.
But I also don’t work quite right, like there’s a processor out of sync, or someone spilled soda on my speech regulation. It’s been affecting my singing, too, which is depressing. I have to think so hard to speak correctly sometimes, to not choke on myself.
As the weather gets more stable, this will be less of an issue. I’ll stop having headaches, & auras, & whatever.
I used to be relatively well spoken. Somewhere along the way, that got harder, & people seem to have a harder time warming up to me now. I write better than I talk. I can stop things from happening.
Today I also thought I was having one of my personal earthquakes (those are weird), but it was just a wobbly bench.
I also forgot (or did I ever know?) that Compline was tonight, & did not park on the street so I could leave again. We have tandem parking, because: Los Angeles. So I was trapped at home.
But I got to watch Brit deliver her first sermon, & it was perfect. I agree that Saint Peter sounds like an overzealous undergrad. I cried a little. After she spoke, I envisioned the world from my cats’ perspective when they were sick. There was nothing in her sermon about that; I was just putting myself in a small, speechless creature’s place.
I am overbooked now through April. I hope I get more normalish again. It is awful watching yourself suck at things you know you can do. You know when you’re watching Jeopardy & you’re screaming at the screen “WHO IS VIKTOR FRANKL!!! DUH!”? My own brain is screaming at itself like that clueless Jeopardy contestant.
And now I have agreed to (re)learn ancient Greek with some friends. I think it will be a lot of fun. I hope I am not a disaster. And if I am a disaster, I hope I am endearing rather than hopeless.