The Beginning of the End

When I was three-years-old I watched in horror as a plastic squirrel I had gotten from a bubblegum machine swirled down the bathtub drain. I tried to save it, but it was too late. I was devastated thinking about my little squirrel drowning in the damp dark and disappearing forever. I felt horrible guilt that I had put him in such a position and was unable to rescue him from such a dreadful fate.

From then on I fought to exhaustion whenever Mama tried to put me in the tub (which was every day). When it was time to let the water out I’d climb from the tub like a crazed, soapy animal and run down the hall with Mama in pursuit. True terror set in when my five-year-old sister wanted us to take a shower. (We took baths together at that age to conserve water expenses, and I imagine, my mother’s energy.)

Mom and my sister made their intolerance and exasperation with my “quirky” behavior highly apparent.

How could they not see it? How could they not understand? The fact is that I knew I was destined to go straight down the drain.

Turns out I was right . . .

To make a long story short (at least for now) I spent the first half of my life doing all of the things that a respectable American woman is supposed to do (and some things that they aren’t supposed to do). I worked hard in high school, played sports, worked my way through college while holding down two jobs, got married, had a child, finally got my undergraduate degree, then my master’s.

Next, I got fired, at the ancient age of 45, and soon discovered that I was too old, too experienced, and too educated to get another job. Who knew?! My mother summed it up when she said to me (the only person in our family’s history to earn a graduate degree), “Well a lot of good all that education did you!”

(Oh Mom, I love ya. Forgive me for my inclusion of your bon mots, but they must be included somewhere if only as a warning.)

Anyway, post-emfirement (a word that while non-existent, is descriptive) I proceeded to go down the drain (as I had so presciently predicted in my early youth). While doing so via excessive television watching, I happened upon an Oprah show during which she strongly advised the concept of journaling. I didn’t have the patience for it, so I simply jotted daily observances and highly intelligent introspective thoughts in my online journal of Random Rants:

A cartoon in my mind: Two people stand together burning in hell. One looks at the other and says, “Well, at least this is one less thing we have to worry about!”

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I noted that Deepak Chopra, spiritual guru, would be on a morning talk show discussing his new book that explained how everything happens for a reason. I made a note to get up early and watch it, because it might help me out of my funk. Instead I fell asleep on the sofa during the segment. That must have happened for a reason.

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My husband urges me once again to go through that humiliating exercise of contacting everyone I know to tell them of my jobless plight. I have done so repeatedly, even to those who are in the same dire straights as me. He believes that I should call them weekly with this information if not daily, leaving me to conclude that ultimately I will not only be without income but without friends!

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A couple, whose parents won $12 million in the lottery a month ago, now win the same amount themselves. When asked what they plan to do with the money, they say they plan to BUILD their own airplane. Screw them!

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Helpful friends suggest, “Why don’t you write the great American novel?”

Hey, now there’s an idea!

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It’s a beautiful fall day and I’m driving my Jeep down a tree-lined street. As the sunlight flickers in and out, in and out, in and out through the sheltering tree branches I think, “If I’m lucky, this will give me a seizure.”

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I see that intriguing creature, the preying mantis, walking across the porch railing. I stare at him through the window, mentally willing him with my special powers to turn his head, and look at me. Suddenly he turns his head and stares straight at me with those little alien eyes in that little alien head that miraculously has its own neck. “I need to get out of the house more,” I think.

@@@@@@@@@@***********!!(To be continued...)