delivered

good evening (she says, burrowing beneath the covers, eyes squinted against the light of the computer in the darkened room). what's your world like today?

the day evolved slowly here, everything covered in a thick blanket of fog. fog, which i'm told is actually 'the marine layer' ... the sea reaching all the way to the hills. it is the highest of tides, i suppose, and always a lovely way to begin the day. lovelier still, is the way it suddenly disappears, leaving the world sunsoaked and shimmery.

it appears to be one of those days where i'm completely in love with everything.

last night was my first 'closing' shift at the store. it couldn't come soon enough. the pace these last days has been ... rabid. i needed to slow down, ease into at least one day of the week. it was as good a day as any. and has left me feeling closer to 'normal' than i have in a long time ...

my car arrived! it's such a small thing, but it makes me feel as if i really live here. standing on the curb, watching them unload her, it felt, strangely, as if i'd been delivered ... small and white; quick and fancy; lightly bruised and a little dirty ... we're very much alike, she and i. (good thing, because we spend a ridiculous amount of time together, these days.)

i'm making friends at work. enemies, too, it would seem. still, work is good - even if the honeymoon is over. this week, everyone appears to be testing my knowledge, my patience, my limits - all at once. it is enlivening and much more to my liking than the tiptoeing that occurred around me in the last weeks. and i am oh so happy to get my hands dirty again.

it's amusing to watch people prove what they can do, especially in light of the fact it feels as if i'm constantly doing the same. less amusing is the idea that my floor managers hate me. perhaps, they only hate the idea of me. it's hard for them, i think, to have functioned as assistants and suddenly be faced with the loss of responsibility and the accompanying 'power.' i am sensitive to it, so i am kind, but i do not coddle them. to accomplish anything, you need to learn to play with it, and the balance between the two is a delicate one. we're all trying to find our footing, and i find myself more tolerant of their tantrums and behind-my-back antics than i will be down the line. i do look forward to the unraveling of the knots they've twisted themselves into.

i also enjoy watching folks try to figure me out. the stock guys wouldn't let me help with anything, (which was odd for me, since i'm used to working the truck, unboxing, moving) until they caught me lifting a sofa onto a dollie - i am freakishly strong (and stubborn). they're all a little looser with me now. which i much prefer. (it doesn't keep them from talking about me when they think i'm not around, though, and i'm still trying to figure out which one of them i overheard say i have an ass 'you'd like to sink your teeth into.') ahhh ... boys. they will be boys. thank god.

oh. there's a cat in my lap, now. chutney, too, it seems, is accidentally normal today. she has finally come out from under the bed, to snuggle and soon, i imagine, to explore and then nap. such a lovely life.

speaking of lovely ... i hope your day can be described as such. if i could, i'd send you this evening - cool and wet, the scent of eucalyptus, leaning against the fence and laughing at whatever stupid thing i've done now. until i conquer the space/time continuum, however, you'll have to settle for my little descriptions and my hugs from afar.