Joe T. had built a table in his workshop. There was new wood all over the place, the light-colored kind. The table stood alongside the wall, quite an impressive piece. It was about 6 feet long and 3 feet wide and had an elaborate system of crosspieces and I guess support beams. I offered to hold the last piece while he drilled holes somewhere on the side to hold the pieces in place. The piece I held was near the very bottom and I had to extend my arms wide to hold the final board. My arms got tired and achy and I let go of the board; that caused the other pieces to slide down to the bottom of the piece. Well, I had tried.
I was asked once again to rate some examination papers in Albany. I saw Barbara in the post office. She said she was going to do do also. I asked her if she wanted to go with me. She said no, without offering any reason. I felt aggrieved, especially since I was the one who had convinced her she could do this work in the first place.
I was sitting in the conference room waiting for our Herkimer BOCES session to begin. After many years of her commuting there with me, Fran had begun riding with another employee who lived closer to her. I had my paperwork on the table. Fran arrived late and strewed her paperwork on top of mine, scattering my carefully organized materials. I thought it rude, but all attention was on Fran, who was playing the poor little me card for one reason or another.
I was with my grandkids in Mass. I was trying to help the youngest with her shoes and socks, but only her mother could help her. (This actually happened about 4 or so years ago.
There were several more event in this long night of dreams. The details are slipping away, but every one of them were tales of failure or rejection, or both. Maybe it was the after-effects of anesthesia. Or just reality.
No comments:
Post a Comment