Hoping for Special
I couldn’t sleep. My intention was to go to the computer and write. Instead, I discovered that there were nine Mozart symphonies being distributed in honor of his birthday by a Danish radio station. They had to be downloaded, categorized and tagged, of course. They also have to be trimmed to cut out spoken commentary and audience applause at the end.
There was also my curiosity about a movie I watched. I had to add my comments to the IMDB.
That was over two hours ago.
I spend hours in front of this damn computer, totally engrossed in one thing or another, and yet to what end?
When my sister Sharon doesn’t want to deal with her situation, she throws it out to me. Yesterday, she pondered why she was getting weaker. Of course, she is afraid the MS has progressed again, but she is afraid to say so out loud. I already noticed the weakness and have been heartsick. I told her it was because she was getting fatter but neither of us really believe that.
The recognition churns up the memories of her homecoming during the last seige before she had to be -- I was going to write “institutionalized” but couldn’t. But there it is! My sister lives in an institution; I’ve lost my best friend; and my life is in the homestretch with little to show.
I intended to do so much more. I was going to succeed. I was going to have a good life, filled with friends and fun and laughter. Hah! I’ve had a mediocre life filled with sorrow. I can’t believe how ordinary I am.
That’s the worst part. Hoping for special and getting anything but.
Now I feel sleepy again of course.