Thursday, April 19, 2012

Another Day Closer

"I found your nose today.  It was stuck in my business again."--Spotted on a T-shirt on the 25 bus in Willow Glen, San Jose


Everything I have to move in preparation for Saturday needs minimal organization, and will fit in just a couple boxes.  For all the satisfaction I feel about moving, I am still feeling a little apprehensive.  This change will be a big one.

When a mind is strong as mine, I always imagine that based on willpower alone I could resist someone's efforts to diminish my self-confidence.  I was wrong. I have watched for the last two years as people would come here to interview to live here, and think to myself, may God help you to see your options to more clearly than I have mine.  I believe all the good food prepared here does little to compensate for the unnecessary negativity of the management here. How sad to think that I, or any adult, should Be subjected to the yammering of an idiot, puffed up over time by some unrealistic, and wholly undeserved, sense of self-importance.

Two years ago, back from my Spinal surgery unable to walk, stand, or actively transfer myself to another chair, I felt completely  incapable of effecting control over my own life. I've since been able to develop my strength, balance, and confidence to where I'm no longer as dependent on others for my daily needs. Now, I accept that as an adult I should be able to live with some small degree of privacy, and not have strange people prying amongst the minutia of my daily affairs. Last month I found application to an apartment complex, and started to prepare myself to  live as a normal human being again.

I mean this concern goes way beyond my dislike of living with other people.  Every man is certainly entitled to have opinions about his fellow man.  Even with my strictest observance of Scripture, it can be very hard for this man to avoid judging his fellow man.  I know I do my best.  But I do take note that since I decided to quit drinking alcohol twenty years ago, I had a group of people, my friends, that taught me the value of staying out of other people's concerns.  I have a vested interest in keeping my attention focused onto my business.  I suppose it is this fact that, conversely, makes me impatient or intolerant, when someone else wants to get overly involved in my life.

Fine people work with me daily to remember the peace and calm that comes from just managing my  life, my own business well.  It is with this in mind that I finally decided to leave this home, and move to a place that has a lock on the door that I can lock, and guests typicallyt will arrive here only if invited.

Tomorrow, once my family and my friends have helped me- all my clothes are hung up in the closet, and all the boxes have been unpacked- I'm quite certain to leave my home To seek out my friends. Aside from the caregivers that will be managing my home and personal needs to my precise specifications, I think I'll be quite content not inviting anyone over, perhaps for a long, long time.

With this new arrangement, I am quite excited to say that I will now be able to write my own menus, and sauté onions and garlic on a regular basis (no one here cooks with sautéed onions and garlic) and make sure that my refrigerator is stocked with a bounty of fresh vegetables and greens.  standing in my steaming frame more regularly will magnify my strength and they'll be able to go to the gym and start swimming for once.  This is going be the starting point for much more exciting existence.

Thanks for reading.

Thursday, April 12, 2012

Counting the Days by Candlelight

I have one week left to go. Sitting in this home- constant care, good food, and no privacy- some people might feel that I am torn about my decision to move. I'm not torn. I crave my privacy, and I enjoy knowing that I'll soon be in more control of my day-to-day activities. I received notification yesterday that my apartment has opened up

 I can't say that my home here is not interesting. I glance at our elderly cat, Sherbet, and am pleased to note that since his trip to the groomers, he is already starting to grow back his hair. He's now made the transition from looking like a sickly Chihuahua, to looking like a shorthaired cat with a fuzzy tail. I found a brush that I don't use the ran that across his back, and he enjoys the attention pressing into the brush with his face, his chin, in his back.he's enjoying a lot of extra attention now that he's getting old.

 Someone is watching the Smurfs movie on the big screen television. Next to me, on the coffee table, someone has replaced this morning's orange rind candle. The orange was sliced in half, and the fruit was extracted from the rind, leaving behind an empty shell with the pithy core of the orange rising up as a makeshift wick. I've already watched this process once today, and it's amusing to see that someone wanted to re-create it. The only point of contention I would have over this process, is that they are using olive oil as the fuel for the candle.

 I can find no justification for that. It may be exciting to watch Rachael Ray on television, and watch as she sprinkles her EVOO on her food products, but olive oil was not meant for combustion. This, of course, is in my own humble opinion. I stare at the olive oil- a light, flavorful, monounsaturated oil-and can only think of its expense, and how it relates to its limited potential as a fuel. Indeed this candle is only an experiment, but if I'm to watch this repeated more than this one night, I would have to protest. For a far lesser expense, they could invest in a polyunsaturated fat, far more hydrogen rich, then this olive oil; this candle would be a sustainable experience, that would definitely give us more bang for our buck.

As I have listened to Dr. Bill Wattenberg, I know this is the path I have to take, and I must fight the good fight. But, in a week this will all be a moot point. I am packing up my boxes, switching up the addresses for my magazine subscriptions, and hoping the best for that little kitty who will live out his final months here. I will celebrate my independence, and I will start writing my own menus.

 I will not look back to the fine people here, the good food, or their general concern for my well-being, with any kind of longing. I am grateful for the assistance that I'm getting here, particularly their assistance in helping me move. Yet, when I move it will be unceremonious, and without regret. For as long as I  lived on this planet, I have Truly come to like many people. I don't believe that I like anyone enough, though, to want to live with them. I believe this change is a good one, well overdue.

Thank you for reading.