Tuesday, October 24, 2006

Wrench, please

In my shop, when we're unloading or shipping furniture, I am often faced with undoing bolts or screws that have been in place for 100 years. Especially with old, old French armoires, it takes a tight wrench and a lot of elbow grease to get the old dirty rusty connectors moving.

I feel right now as if I'm trying to wrench my head around, giving it a major heave-ho, working to get back to a point of gratitude and acceptance. I am not white knuckling it, but neither am I in that divine spot where it feels I am floating on a cloud of grace and serenity.

So much better than it was, as I said this morning, but nowhere near where I want to be. Some of this is likely the aftereffects of excess. Why can't I remember that this. does. not. feel. good. Why? I have a disease that tells me I don't have a disease, tells me this time it will be different, I'll be able to handle it, keep on track, quit with one. It's a liar, this affliction. Maybe one day I will lose my ability to hear its voice.

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3 Comments:

Blogger blubbah said...

...but it feels pretty awesome when the bolts come loose.

(Literally and metaphorically.)

Sometimes you need someone to help you with the wrench. Sometimes you need to take a breather and let your hands rest and uncramp. Sometimes you need gloves. Don't feel bad about that.

October 26, 2006 5:27 AM  
Blogger Crazy In Shreveport said...

Heh, heh. I read your headline really fast. Thought it said "Wench, please." I imagined you in a saucy Halloween costume having a confrontation somewhere. It must be this fever I have.

October 27, 2006 9:00 PM  
Blogger Thora said...

I keep forgetting I have this disease :(

The hand tattoo is a lovely idea. Maybe a nice Olde English-y type script.

My sis will be thrilled. She's wanted to take me to get a tat for several years now.

November 06, 2006 5:43 PM  

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