tuckova

So, where were we? Oh, yes, my tragic sleeplessness. Well that seems to
be over now YAY. It is funny how when I'm in a happy moment I am
usually able to name it and enjoy it even though I am aware of its
transitory soap bubble status, but when I'm unhappy it takes me a long
time to figure out where it comes from, and in the meantime it's always
what if it lasts forever this time? And then of course the
moment it's over I'm like, oh yeah well of course. Of course I couldn't
sleep; I was in a burning building.

Fortunately I have outstanding self-preservation and thus continue
to go through the motions of removing myself from said burning building
even when it all seems so hopeless, because some clever part of me knows
that if I run, I will eventually be standing outside with all what's
really important, what I have that I love, and we will have sooty faces
maybe but we won't be dead or anything.

And you know, I don't mean possessions, but the people I love who really make it possible… no, that make it necessary to
run. Because I am surrounded by expanding circles of awesomeness, and
from the people I interact with daily to the people I only talk to a
couple times a year, I am so extraordinarily lucky that I can only bear
to think about it very rarely or my heart would explode. I live with an
amazing pair of guys, I have friends that I see regularly, friends I
see annually, and friends I've never met, and yet I know that each of
these people has my back. There are couches around the world that I
could distressed damsel-esquely collapse on, and those people who would
hand me tissue and tell me jokes, and I know this is true not least
because it is unquestionable that I would do the same for them.
Gertrude Stein asked, "How do you like what you have?" and I have to
say I like it really, really well. I have friends who will help me sift
through my shit and laugh about it. I have people who know how to
distract me from my own stabby moments by discussing stab binding. I
have a sister I can call at 3 in the morning who will remind me that
you cannot go wrong re-reading your favorite childhood books. And there
I was, curled on the couch an hour later sniffling because Taran
couldn't make pottery the way he wanted, and he had to move on… I
felt nevertheless finally as right as… no, more right than rain.

I just mean to say: I know I am really lucky. I know I am so
unbelievably blessed to have the life I have, to have so many people
making that life rich and wonderful. I know that the moments of bliss,
like the moments of despair, are just shifts in the wind, and that a
good gust of laughter can blow away even the acrid smell of smoke from
a building I didn't have to stay in, and the rest of the neighborhood
is intact, because it's filled with good people. I'm counting you.