black hole
ceramic, D-16×14″


So- this new bed is BAD.

It smells of smoke from some other weary Medicaid-ed soul. The mattress has no structure and my butt carves a deep pocket in the tired foam which I fight to extricate myself from. I must stay in one position all night as I can’t claw my way out of the booty depression.

(I am kvetching because it is too grey and rainy outside and I just can’t help myself..).

This morning I love money. Money says one can Google adjustable beds and find the best looking one (clearly a priority), pick a bed wide enough to change position in, be assured the damn thing hasn’t been lived in by another human so the energy is absolutely neutral when it arrives and glory in the anticipated ok-ness one click on a computer can provide.

The company dispensing such beds as the one I now see and narrow my brow toward will pick it up Monday and I will up the ante in my physical therapy regime to allow myself the strength to continue resting in my sweet-smelling bed of old…

So! It’s all good, right? Bad experience gets Cathy’s butt in gear to keep the strength she has instead of caving to encroaching muscle loss…

Yes! This is how I keep myself running electric life in my blood instead of sluggish clay: look at a situation and live inside it watching for the German Chocolate Cake-part so I don’t stay in the occasional fetidness of this dense human vulnerability we call a body.

My own personal money in the bank is my resilience, fortitude, spirit, faith, trust, creativity and sense of humor when I can find her.

My bank account smells like lilacs and Chanel #5.

Dear God,

Thank you for these gifts.



3 Responses to “Bedlam”

  1. Alexis on May 16th, 2015

    Ick. Sounds like a horrible bed. But I do like your bank account! xx

  2. CarrieBallantyneEckhold on May 16th, 2015

    Dear God, Thank you for Cathy and her wisdom

  3. Alexandra Eldridge on May 18th, 2015

    What beautiful thoughts, writing and what a beautiful spirit.

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