Yesterday was bad. Bad allergy day + bad anxiety day = bad squared. (I wanted to do the superscript 2, but there’s no way I’m figuring that out today, if super- and sub-scripts are even possible in Wix.)
I spent several hours yesterday afternoon and evening wrapped in a satin sheet because I’m itchy all over from the allergies and extra itchy all over from the anxiety. The only nightgowns I knew wouldn’t bother me were in the wash. I tried a couple of other things, but was ready to take the cheese grater to my arms within twenty minutes. Thus, satin flat sheet.
It was very nice, actually. The way I had it draped and pinned it reminded me of my maid of honor dress for Bestie’s second wedding. Better, really, because there was no tulle underskirt for poof or long-line corset.
I took an antihistamine before bed. I felt fine(ish) when I woke up today — for about seven minutes.
My brain keeps trying to go down one of its death spirals of mad-hatteriness. (Thank you, cbd oil, for slowing it down so it doesn’t fly right off of the edge of reality.) I can feel a panic attack hovering just past the corner of my eye. If I whip my head ‘round fast enough I could look at it full on. But I don’t want to see it. I want it to go away.
So that’s my state when suddenly there’s three vehicles stopped on the little two-lane that runs along side of a creek. Three vehicles, one of which the driver is struggling to turn around where there’s no shoulder just the drop off to the creek, and a young woman with a stop sign. I’m too far back to see why, tho I’m not sure I could see any better if I were first in line because there are two sharp curves just past the stop sign woman.
(Note: You probably don’t care, but this the same two-lane where I’ve encountered a mob of wild turkeys. Twice.)
The minivan driver finally gets turned around and heads back. That was the second of the three (before I cane along) vehicles. So now there’s three again and I’m third.
And we wait. The stop sign woman moves her hands and arms, like maybe she’s getting ready to switch it around to slow. She isn’t. She’s just tired. Just standing like that on asphalt because there’s no grassy shoulder just a slope up to railroad tracks, that’s hard on the back as well as the legs. Her shoulder is probably really stiff. Depending how long she’s been here her hand might be going numb.
We wait. I text Stacy that I’ll be late. I roll down the window, turn off the a/c, put Zoe in park. I don’t know what stop sign woman’s back is like, but everything is pressing wrong on the sciatic nerve at my left hip. And I can’t really change position even in park because if das Boot.
I wait and I itch. itchitchitchitch.
I’m listening to Toni Morrison read Beloved, but my brain is fluttering off. It starts at the edges, but soon there are big gaps everywhere as this and that synapses go check their voicemail and look at the scenery and nap and get a snack and quietly plan a riot.
The driver of the first vehicle gets out and tries to yell questions to stop sign woman and orange vest man (who came by earlier, not to tell her the whatever crew was almost ready for traffic to resume like I hoped, but apparently just to chitchat for a bit. He hasn’t even offered to hold her sign for a bit even tho she’s been switching positions switching hands more and more and more.). Orange vest man tries to yell back answers. All I catch is broad gestures at the road ahead and “… that won’t happen until …”. I doubt I’ll hear more even if I turn off the audiobook that maybe three or four bits of my brain are still listening to. It doesn’t matter because first vehicle driver is walking toward stop sign woman and orange vest man. It is 10:17. I’ve been the third vehicle since 9:33.
Nope.
I back up because it really isn’t safe to try turning around here. I know there is, back aways, a falling down whitewashed frame house with a black iron dog statue in front and a gravel driveway. Maybe I can turn around safely before then, maybe not. Turns out not and the whitewash house was almost a mile back of the stop. In reverse almost a mile back around curves with the creek drop off on my right and steep slope up to the tracks on my left.
And turn around. And drive back home. And so much itchyitchyitchyitchyitchy I take another shower, just cold water to stop the itch. Which it did so I could type this. But the itch is back again so no more typing.
I have an idea how to wear the satin sheet differently today.
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