The fog is so thick this morning that even the pecan trees in the front yard are ghostly, misted, hard-to-see. I had bizarre dreams, so waking to this just continues a trend.
It's a Suitcase Day for me. That means that more than anything in the universe today, I want to put everything that's important to me in a suitcase and get the hell out of here. And when I say "out of here," I mean so far away that nobody can ever find me. I don't even care where. I just want to run.
I can almost feel the itch between my shoulder blades where the imaginary wings might be, and if I had two nickles to rub together here at the end of the worst month in the already-stupidly-crappy teaching pay year, I would just do it, just get in my car and go. I feel so claustrophobic this morning, even standing out in the yard with Roux on a leash under the wide sky, that I can hardly breathe. I can feel things pressing down on me (and no, I won't be specific here. get over it) like a thick, sopping wet cloth over my face that I can't peel away.
This is not an "oh-how-nice-it-would-be-to-see-the-world" moment. This is an "oh-how-f'd-up-this-all-is-here" moment. It started Friday afternoon and has snowballed on me. Some of it is beyond my control. Some of it is totally, utterly, and completely my fault, but I can't fix it now. I need to be away, away, AWAY, in a place where nobody knows me, where I'm just another person, ignored and unknown, totally uninteresting.
Better yet, if I had the power to be somewhere where even the language was not mine, and the sound could flow across me with no meaning and no demand... I am thinking of the Toyokawa Inari shrine for some reason, the oddly peaceful local train ride to get there, the glade of stone foxes in the back. I have obligations tonight that I must fulfill; I cannot pawn them off on somebody else. But until it is time for that, I may find a way to disappear.
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And then you said.....