The Storm That Wasn't

It was supposed to snow last night.  It didn't but it feels apocalyptic, even in the Bat Cave, with waves of high winds.  When I walked Daisy at 7.30 this morning, there was little traffic on the street and yet I could feel the thrum of Brooklyn coming up through the soles of shoes: traffic on the BQE four or five blocks south of us, the wind, some urban beat, maybe of coffee makers and showers and the thud of the tossing the New York Times on the breakfast table.  I don't know why it feels as if something is ending and I feel less of my usual dread and anxiety than usual.  Perhaps it's the last blast of winter, although the forecast doesn't expect a major shift into spring, either.

Still, I've seen some crocuses and one intrepid tiny daffodil that had closed itself up in sleep again by last night.  Something needs to break.  I hope it isn't me.

I had, of course, every intention of blogging yesterday but there weren't enough hours.  The rosary is becoming a project and I was tracking down a couple of quotes and wanted to read the gospels' accounts of the Passion.  So long blogging!  Since I'm exploring the rosary, I'm using the St. Joseph New American Bible, the "Catholic" version.  I kind of have to.  I was fascinated by the plenteous footnotes and impressed by the admissions that Matthew, for instance, was probably written several generations after Jesus died, that not all of the Letters were written by whom they are ascribed to. 

When one's project has become the subject of sin, it's good to see reason and exegesis poke their heads through the snow of damnation and uncertainty that the topic layers on top of daily living.  The list of things I disagree with in Church teachings and in the Bible could go on for miles, so I'm especially relieved to see actual Catholic scholarship at work.  It gives me hope.

I agreed, almost at the last minute, to go out to dinner with friends whom I share dogs with, also cutting into Car on the Hill time.  I am, needless to say, really glad I did, although at the moment I hand only gotten to the arrest in Matthew after wading through all the end-of-times stuff and had things on my list left to do.  It was probably the most nutritious food -- Thai -- I'd had in a couple of weeks.  We have immediate things in common besides the dogs and I didn't really have enough time to freak out at the thought that I was going out socially.

Is this why I'm so relatively calm today?  One of the things we talked about was whether I should put up dog-wanted posters.  There is a chance that a really good opportunity will come my way in My Other Life, although I think it will be a month or so before I know and when I consider it, I'm not so confident that the employers would want me.  I've been having the Horrors about money.  I have some savings, but they're going to be severely clipped by taxes.  I'm still using Windows XP and memory is running out on my PC.  I desperately need a decent office chair.  I have a book to promote.  I have a kitchen sink I need to have fixed and Daisy needs a check-up.  All of this can hail down on me when I least expect it but last night I was able to talk frankly about my slacker life with people who understand, people I have given dog walking work to and so have helped out financially.

We decided I should wait.  If I take on more dogs and this Other Life gig comes through, I'll either be over-committed or have to drop the dogs I just started being responsible for.  The rosary is beginning to take up more time, which means I'm moving in the direction of writing a proposal.  There are good things to do while waiting out the slim chance of gainful employment elsewhere.  Maybe talking to people who understand these two halves of me -- one has advised me on how to better perform My Other Life -- over spinach and spices is as good as a Klonopin on a cold gusty day.

I also got to howl when another friend called to invite me to a lecture on Pope Francis.  I accepted -- note to world: while I wither in lack of hope, Pope Francis gives me some -- but there was the question of dinner.  Our parish is serving a "Lenten supper" before the lecture and I broke into that song from Funny Girl: "When a goil's incidentals/are no bigger than two lentils/then to me it doesn't spell success..."  We were snorting with the knowledge of exactly what a Lenten supper would me and his wife is opposed to it.  We'll go to the Egyptian place around the corner where we have several matters to discuss, including my friend's wish to go to Utica this summer with our dogs.  His wife is opposed.  I'd go anywhere but Utica, I have to say, is low on my list.  We talked about stalking a Mystery Niece in Paris and he got a Sidney Greenstreet get-up going as his disguise and Daisy and I ended up in fake noses and glasses. 

He knows Paris intimately while I dislike it generally so we began to plan one of those trips that won't happen to Normandy and Fontainbleu and Lourdes...............

So here I am feeling absolutely skint, trying not to freak out about money, with social plans every other day this week.  The Qu gong massage -- dinner last night -- what I know will be a funny dinner and then a hopeful lecture tomorrow -- and I'm, for this while, at least, serene.

Even though I had to dip into my money box to do it.

So I don't know.  I don't know anything today.  I'm not anxious: astonishing.  The Horrors wait somewhere later in the day or not all: a relief.  I have interesting work to do.  I have friends.  I'm sitting here just being and that's OK.

I'm sure the tide will turn with the wind, but that's OK too.

Maybe.