Man of Dust

Sometimes it would do well for me to remember that I am a man of dust. Like when I get all stressed out about rent and moving and going to the Phillipines and wondering how the hell I'm going to keep everything else straight and organized. By the way, how the hell am I going to keep everything straight and organized?

I gave plasma today, which is a two-hour deal that can be uncomfortable, but is supposedly far more useful and necessary than whole blood donations that take a quarter of the time. Because it takes so long, they let you watch a movie from an extensive collection on hand donated for the purpose. Today I saw American Splendor, which was pretty good. One day I will relate in greater detail, how I saw Spinal Tap for the first time with two IV needles up both arms, and some seriously annoyed nurses kept having to re-poke me, I was laughing so hard.

But tonight I am an exhausted man of dust, who wants nothing more than for the world to suspend for a few hours. Just go somewhere else, and don't pay attention to me for a bit, that's all.



The Lioness said...

*big smooch*

Anonymous said...

I don't know how much this helps, but anything cataclysmic that occurs while you're taking a couple hours of much needed/deserved rest was probably not something you'd have been able to stop singlehandedly anyhow. I think we tend to forget that just because we can get the news from anywhere instantaneously, it doesn't mean that our knowledge of it after the fact is the same as "I was directly responsible." Knowledge after the fact simply means that you need to try to make sure it doesn't happen again. And though I also feel that saving the world is entirely my responsibility, I have to admit that I am a lonely Democrat living in North Idaho and not the Queen of All Living Things.