Book of D: Those Damn Dreams

 So, once again I find myself feeling rather shaken up by a dream. It's one of those dreams where you wake up feeling like you're still in the dream. The people from the dream remain vivid. The conversations are still wreaking havoc inside your head. The ethos, pathos, and logos of the events are playing via a loop, and it just leaves you wondering why. WHY? Why am I dreaming of this person who hasn't been in my life for over two decades; I haven't spoken to her in almost one decade (since my mom passed away). Do I need to do something about the dream? Is it closure I need? I really don't think closure is really an issue here. Should I talk to my mentor in the counseling grad program or should I talk to my therapist. If I do talk to someone about it, am I doing it to get some kind of weird validation, so I can justify reaching out to the protagonist in my dreams. What is it about some dreams that leave us rattled to our core? I mean, I'm not going to lie and say I don't miss this person who's been enveloping my thoughts following said dreams but is it really apropos to try to reach out to her. As I stated, I haven't had communication with her much for years. I miss her terribly. I miss our conversations, but it could be that I am missing someone and some things that most likely have changed. Am I really ready to put myself out there only to face disappointment or melancholia for a world that no longer exists the way it once did? Perhaps the disturbing dreams and their frequent occurrences are because that world that I envision within myself really never existed. Not in the sense that reconnecting with it can really do me any good in this point in my life. Maybe the dreams are a way for me to channel the truth.

Book of D: Walmart Shoppers

People at Walmart are Interesting.

I was in the checkout line behind a rather big woman who looked like she was five days from a proper bath.

She was wearing yoga pants that were not flattering unless she likes showing off the hail damage to her thighs. 

And I can’t say much about her shirt that looked like it belonged to someone two sizes smaller than her.

Anyway, she was talking out loud, which I thought was strange: talking to herself.

She looked back at me, and I saw she had an iPhone with a Bluetooth earpiece.

I thought she was going to say something, but she just open mouth grinned at me.

That’s when I saw her teeth – all 3 of them.

I wanted to say, “so, hey, hi . . . it looks like you can afford some pretty expensive stuff there,

but it’s crazy that of all the teeth you’re missing, you decided to go with the one tooth: 

the Bluetooth

🤣🤣🤣

That's some special $h¡t right there.

🤣🤣🤣

Book of D: Punx Phil's Prediction and Predilection for Winter

Well, the cute, furry rodent saw his shadow: six more weeks of winter. 

Take that, cold-weather haters. LOL. 

By the way, to my former-bestie (a.k.a. ex-love-of-my-life), if you ever pass this way, happy birthday on this February 2nd. You are 54 years young. I hope things are going well for you. I miss you. It's been over 26 years since I have seen you and around 8 years since we last talked. So much has happened in my life that I would love to share. I am sure you have had a lot of good things happen in your life, too. On a poignant note, I am saddened that you lost your dad last June. I wanted to reach out to you, but I felt like it was for the best to leave you alone to mourn as you needed to do. Anyway, maybe one day we will be able to reconnect sans barriers or negative thoughts or dismissive intrusion. You will always be an important person to me. Many of my "firsts" were with you.

Book of D: Remembering Ronnie

 Happy belated birthday in heaven, Ronnie. I sit here wondering why you have occupied my dreams so much these past few days, and I cannot help but feel so full of sorrow that you are no longer with us on this earthly plane. Your journey through ecotones is still quite perplexing. Needless to say, I am so sorry you died. Moreover, I am sorry you had to die the way you did. Unfortunately, things between you and me ended on a negative note all those years ago. I wish I had a time machine or could access the Einstein-Rosen Bridge to go back in time and fix things between us; to make the breakup more gentle and mindful. The counselor in me posits that we could have remained friends had a more positive intervention occurred. I guess it's something we'll never know. My heart at that time was still healing from having lost-in-love way too many times, so ending our relationship did not come easy for me, Ronnie. You were someone I loved; I still love you in my own way. I remember when I first saw you and how my heart skipped a beat. After P---i, I wasn't sure I could ever be enamored by anyone else. I thought my days of physical and emotional attraction toward another person were over. You were the clouds parting in my dark unsettling life. You gave me hope again for love to shine. You were so beautiful. You were funny. You were brilliant. You taught me so many things. My love of soccer was solidified by your wonderful tutelage of the beautiful game. You loved me unconditionally there for a while. Despite that love having been short lived and sadly not as reliable as I would have liked, I knew you loved me in your own way. You gave me hope to love again. Even though our though our time together was short and ended in a somewhat tumultuous manner, it taught me many things. I didn't leave you for someone else; I left you so we could each find what we needed in life and love. I found my "someone," and I like to think you did, too. I'll never forget your fabulous smile, laugh, comedic nature, and beguiling personality. Continue to rest in peace, my dearest Ronnie. ❤

I hope your birthday was celebrated by your family and that they have found healing. 

  

Book of D: Home Sweet, Temporary Home

Growing up, no one explains how nothing is permanent. For instance, a home. You grow up, you move into a dwelling: a house, an apartment . . . but nothing prepares you for the end when you have to move out because the time allotted for you to live there has arrived. 

One day, you will have to move out of that dwelling. The mere action of buying a place to call home never really makes it yours. It is silly and banal to think otherwise. Sure, you might be buying, and you might be acquiring equity, but the home will still someday belong to someone else. The equity you built into that home will not save you from death. Death is imminent. Whether it is your own death or that of a loved one, it changes everything and everyone – forever. The home you lived in for years will one day belong to someone else; they will get to live in it until their story comes to an end, too. You get no special privileges because you are you. Death is certain. Permanence is evasive.

Book of D: Ŧexas Ŧech

 Ŧexas Ŧech

Book of D: My Adult Accomplishments

In 2008, I was a district manager for a huge marketing / merchandising firm based out of Illinois. I was making $67,000 a year with stock options and nice yearly bonuses. I was managing over 120 employees in a district that circumvented a 500 mile range. The district spanned from west Texas, north including the entire Texas Panhandle just stopping short of the Tx / OK border, south as far as Del Rio over to Junction, east to Wichita Falls and Weatherford, west to El Paso/"El Chuco" (including Alpine, Marfa, and Presidio), and it included the entire state of New Mexico. I traveled the country training other district managers and regional managers, too. I even helped train a few execs in Troy, MI (suburb of Detroit) and would help the IT dept while learning to code. I was also awarded the District Manager of the Year. 

In 2009, for personal reasons, I semi-retired. I ventured into other careers. In 2011, I lost my beloved Mom / bestie to esophageal cancer and made a huge promise to her: I continued my college education because that's what I promised her. 

It's 2021 now, and I'm in grad school with the intention of becoming a counselor (LPC). I didn't begin this latest venture to allow anyone or anything to belittle everything I've ever accomplished nor to allow myself to be unappreciated for the myriad of badass things I've learned to do; nor to allow myself to be mistreated or disrespected. 

To those foolish/pithy enough to stand in my way, go ahead and try. I've lost so much in my lifetime, but I learned to survive. I've learned to crawl when my Achilles heal was torn apart. I learned to breathe when my heart failed me and my thyroid was removed. I learned to live after losing my Dad, Mom, and my nephew who was more like a son to me. I learned to begin a new career when my employer that once placed me on a pedestal turned on me because I placed my Mom's (and mine) health first and above their need for money. 

I have learned a lot out of life; moreover, I've learned compassion, love, and understanding. 

So, if others have a need to threaten me, stifle me, or overlook me, well, that's on them. They won't stop me.

I'm always on the lookout for new adventures and opportunities. I'm sometimes diffident, but never ignorant. I'll play the game as it requires, but I won't go beyond if the monies don't match it. I'll never succumb to inferiority, complacency, prejudice, narcissism, or hate. 

Book of D: I'm Back

I haven't posted in a while. Lots of things have happened. Life has been constant: it has been good, and as it goes, it has reminded us that often times it will be bad. Anyheow . . . I am back on campus working this week, so YAY. I was telecommuting for a long time -- that was great -- especially because I was paranoid of being around others, mostly due to so many people not taking Covid-19 seriously enough. But, that is totally beyond my control, all I can focus on is making sure I am taking the pandemic seriously and following CDC guidelines. Everything else will just fall into place -- good or bad. It's all out of my hands, and I have to learn to be okay with that.

Book of D: HER

...It happened again last night--right at 3 a.m. "Her" cries once again sent shivers up and down my spine. My cat was not in the great room with me this time to help justify what I was hearing; all I needed to help lend proof was for me to just listen and sit still. I was actually unable to move; frozen in time as if that would save me or hide me from this entity. I was too scared to be scared; if that makes sense. "Her" loud shrills of distress were all the proof I needed that I was not asleep. I was wide awake; I was experiencing her torment true to life. "Her" cries clearly enveloped a sort of torment that no one in this world should ever know.

Tonight, I find myself unable to sleep. I am once again in the great room reading one of my favorite books. It is just before 3 a.m., and I don't want to go to sleep and wake the rest of the family--because just as sure as I know the clock will strike that certain time of the morning, I know I will be awakened by "her" shrilling cries. I decide to take time to write all this down. I have the t.v. tuned to a channel that plays classical music. The kind I love to listen to when I study. I look around on occasion; something captures my attention high above the vaulted ceiling. It disappears. Maybe there was never anything there to begin with; who knows. I happen to notice the beautiful clock high above the wall that leads into the dining room; it's a family heirloom that I inherited from my late Mom. The clock is ticking rather loudly. Each tick reminds me that "her" cries are slowly progressing through the night. Soon the cries will reach me where I sit. Truth or dare I would play with the entity, but I am not so brave. I will stay up and listen. Perhaps my willingness to pay attention helps aid her in comfort somehow. I don't really know. It's just life happening as it sees fit for each of us humans; I guess life humors the lamented as well--that is if they ever lived in human form at all. The enigma continues. I'll write more later; I now have five minutes to prepare.