I believe in karma. I truly do, at least, in one form or another. Why do I believe in karma? Because I’m making tea at nine in the evening out of a need for something comforting.

Wait, no. Check that. I believe in karma for the same reason I’m making tea at nine in the evening. Because life is perfect, then it’s hell, and then you die. This is the cycle. Hopefully you have a bit more perfection than hell and die when you’re on the upswing of Fortune’s Wheel, or maybe just before you hit the half-way down point, so you can appreciate the fact that you’re avoiding an unpleasant rush of blood to the head. Either way, fortune’s a dizzying dame.

I’m sorry to be writing at you in vague riddles. The problem with working with kids, however, is that you need to protect their confidentiality. This is a good and understandable measure, but when horrible things happen, my legal ability to vent is always lacking in elbow room. So all I can say concretely is that I want to go back to Sunday and suffer some kind of minor head trauma to avoid having to go through the rest of this week. And that reaction is stemming almost entirely from an incident that happened an hour into my second shift yesterday.

And the thing is…this weekend was good. It was brilliant. I made my NaNoWriMo word count on Wednesday and got it verified on Friday. I had big flashy web banners telling me I was a winner, not so they could dupe me into buying stuff, but because I had actually accomplished something.  Thursday was full of family and the parade and turkey and Wii Pictionary and pie. We got to cut down a Christmas tree in snow on Friday instead of in the predicted freezing rain. We had perfect weather for driving back and our cats decided they don’t hate us for packing them sardine-style into the car for a four-hour drive twice in four days.  Life just doesn’t get much better than that.

And than, and then, and then…. Grrrr, argh, and unventable blah. Sigh and tarnation. All I can do is hope that from the ashes of this difficult situation a phoenix will rise and soar, dragging Fortune’s ponderous wheel up with it to balance this… this… this… heartache.

Who was it that said “A little nonsense now and then is relished be the wisest men”? Oh. The internet says it was Anonymous. Smart lady, that Anonymous, but I think it could also be “A little schadenfreude now and then is relished by the kindest men.” Not that I’m especially kind or wise, but after trying to do the most ethical and compassionate thing all day, I am keenly feeling the sense in letting my brain rejuvenate with a little Fawlty Towers.

2 thoughts on “397

  1. Oh, Melissa, working with children is always fraught with heartache and, sometimes, helplessness. It is also full of joy and laughter and love. Know this to your core: Children will remember with heartrending gratitide that, at some point in their childhood, someone listened and someone cared….no matter how difficult the immediate circumstances are….the adult remembers the caring. And that memory is sometimes what gets them through stuff. Just like your remembering a brilliant Thanksgiving weekend will help you.
    Sending hugs and love your way


  2. I hope your job has built in supervision where you can vent in the appropriate circumstances without violating confidentiality. You need to take care of yourself first so you can there to help the kids. Love & hugs. grammy


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