cccyclesss

I loved my job today.  Or, rather, I realized that I have been loving my job ever since I learned what was what enough to come in every day and perform it.  This afternoon in the beatific late spring sun with the cottonwood tufts drifting by, everything was perfect perfect.  The flowers have become dear to me; I like myself when I'm caring for them.  I like my skinny brown forearms and my dirt-crusted fingers.  I like wandering around stroking and smelling them, pruning off dead matter, plucking petunias and deadheading daisies.  I see them grow and bloom and shrivel and bloom.  I keep tabs on the small cluster of iridescent yellow eggs that has hatched into a tiny horde of caterpillars.  When a little cactus-y plant finally bloomed its spiky purple blossoms and I saw them close as the sun was obscured, just like I expected them to, I laughed out loud.    

This, however, is probably my last week of the job before the suppliers pack them all up and take them elsewhere, to the compost heap or I don't know.  I've been asked to stay at the store and work inside after this happens; I worked as a cashier yesterday when it was raining and was a walking anxiety attack.  I hated it, and myself, I do not want to subject myself to that, no no no, god take it away don't make me.  I think I am going to decline their offer even though I have no other income or job prospects.  I think I have to.    

Everything has changed since last night, new class, new revelations about the past, new anger and regret and unhappiness and that tearing apart feeling when you didn't want it to change, and don't want it to change, but it can't be taken back.  I'm being vague.  My whole body wants an apology.  It's reaching for the gem of revenge that's hardening somewhere in my throat/chest region, but I know if I grab it it will only turn me into a soulless gollum creature.

In middle school when the adult awareness started seeping in I started to feel "bad" all the time.  I was shy and embarrassed before but the badness would grab me and hold me in nausea and I remember one day in music class I realized that if I just "played" classical music very loudly in my head in a sort of meditation, it helped the badness go away.  

Now I drink.