Did you ever think you were having kind of a normal-to-good day and then find yourself at midnight shoving as many tortilla chip-shards in your mouth as would fit? And then wonder, "How did it come to this?"
What spirits of craziness arise around this time of year? Is it the ghosts of disappointments? Unrealized expectations? And we just carry them around and act them out? Force them on others?
Earlier today, I was all fired up and "in the zone," spittin' ready to take on some new philosophical topics. Six hours later, tortilla chip time.
I was in a good enough mood to be thinking about the moments of grace and fortune that might happen every day. Today, I was fortunate to get a seat on the subway moments before an announcement that the train was being held indefinitely due to some fracas under investigation further down the line. Ah ... a seat on a crowded train at rush hour. That's some kind of blessing, especially in the winter when everyone is padded with wool and whatnot. And I didn't have to pee. And I had books to read. And a MASHdrink and a fully-powered iPod. Kind of a mental bombshelter.
When I got home, ready to contemplate the difference between being lucky and being blessed, I saw on Facebook that my older sister was in the ER with heart problems. And then, all the emotion of losing my younger brother hit me like the Earth rises up when you fall. All of it. Full body. Splat. And then a round of anguished telephone calls to get the information to all the right people and figure out what's up.
She's out. She could be okay if she chooses. But like our father and our younger brother, and others in our family, she probably won't.
And, for tonight, I am sore from the emotional impact, the resonances, and rueing those chips. I think I left the moment and my body. Breathe deeply, Sally Anne. Breathe deeply.