Today the only thing I really want is not to be here. I just sent one of my co-workers home sick, and practically in tears over all that needed to be done. Personally I just feel kind of nauseous and food looks entirely un-appetizing although I feel like I ought to have more than a glass of rice milk and ½ an English muffin for breakfast. I have a styrofoam mug in front of me, black cherry tea giving it a honey red murky depth. It promises warmth in my cold office, but the thought of drinking even that… my stomach cramps. I rub the goose bumps on my arms and take a sip anyway. I begin to be afraid I’m pregnant again. Or again, begin to fear I’m pregnant. There’s nothing “again” about a pregnancy, just the wondering. But I can’t go there. There are too many hopes and fears wrapped up in that maybe to agonize over for the next 4-5 days while I wait for my period to start… or not. But that’s not what this story is about… or is it. It’s about the thoughts that refuse to order. To make some order of them. How I want to be home with my baby, free like birds to chase all our dreams. To right the world where we touch it.
Well, as far as a small piece of what I wanted for work, there’s a child abuse training scheduled for all staff on Friday. We’ll see what it’s about, if it’s any good and if it will do any good. For now I just tell myself “at least it’s on the plate”. Nine months left. That’s all. Then I’m out. Back to school. Shake the dirt off my feet and move on. I hope. At least I hope I can. Sometimes l feel like I’ll always feel tainted by this place and how it’s not what it should be. Fit to drive you crazy. Drive me crazy at least. But I’ll not let it. I’m going back to school next year. Let me re-iterate it until I believe it enough to work for it, harder and harder. I WILL accomplish my goal.
