ALL THAT GLITTERS

Cute tomato waiting on the corner of 62nd and Second.

There are those days, particularly when one is in therapy and digging around, when a remembrance or recollection or even a repeat of an experience is stepping on an emotional land mine. For me, this can result in extreme spaciness. Fortunately, this does not happen very often. But when it does I have a range of responses from just losing track of time to just not getting out of bed. And not getting out of bed might be the safe thing, as in my past, I have not been entirely aware of myself on the street and have come close to walking into traffic.

That's been more or less my state of mind for the last 24-hours. I did get out of bed, did my editing/moderating job this morning, although I warrant that it took me longer than usual and was not my finest hour. I did find myself overwhelmed and almost skipped therapy in order to sleep, but I managed to just take a 20 minute quiet lie-down and was able to get out. I can't say that I am going to be up too much longer tonight.

I was going to skip my post tonight, too, as I am not not of a philosophical or observational mode. That pull to oblivion is still damn strong.

I did have a unique experience today, in the brief time I was out. I sold a piece of gold jewelery in the diamond district. ring. Gold is trading at over a thousand dollars an ounce. The street, 47th, just a block or two down from Times Square is just a complete hubbub of hustlers, handing out flyers to get gold. I thought perhaps my forlorn mien gave me away, but it was more likely just business as usual. I sold the only piece of gold jewelry I had, discounting my father's wedding

The idea of selling one's possessions for survival was a bit of shock for me. The bracelet was a simple Italian 18K gold chain my sister had given me many years ago. I didn't wear it much as I am not a gold person particularly. I haven't worn it in decades. I place more value on the pink floral depression glass cake plate that our grandmother gave to her. My sister gave it to me as she did not think her own daughters would cherish it as I would. But the idea that that asset is gone, that tiny asset (I got $200 for it) is not only no longer mine, it could well be melted down by now. As I stood on the subway platform, I did have a moment of feeling I was consigning something to oblivion.

I took a small portion of my "booty" and had a small pizza at the local place. Woo-hoo! And then I went to buy more cat food to see if I could please the pusses. But no ... now I have three large sacks of dry cat food and they don't want any of it.

No wonder I want to go to bed.