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Let's run the ship aground.
Oct. 1st, 2008 10:57 amI tend to wake up pretty early most every morning on my own, but I don't actually leave the house and face people until much later on. Today I set an alarm, just in case, because I was going to do some volunteer work from 8 am to 10 am at the temple. I've been wanting to spend some time there, but the work practice meetings are always on Monday nights, but this past Sunday when talking to B.K., she mentioned living all by herself in the temple right now and how its sometimes a little overwhelming, so I figured, hey, here's the chance to finally make good on it. Plus, I really like B.K., she is just one of those people that is always open and genuine and kind, but not in a pollyanna way, more in a sweet and goofy way.
I'm rousing from sleep before the alarm, but its chilly and the bed is warm and I'm realizing the very sweet dream I just had wasn't reality, so I'm struggling to wake up with the good feeling of the unconscious and not slip into the potential sadness of waking life. The alarm snaps on, the last half of some piano instrumental song, and then the next song starts: Bone-Thugs-N-Harmony's "1st of Tha Month". I chuckle a little, thinking about the person who put that on a mix for me, how its one of her favorite songs, and then I realize, wait, it IS the first of the month! So I get out of bed, trying to be peppy. I'm not exactly failing, but I'm still moving a little slow. I'm out the door and on the bike and still underdressed, its still in the 40s, the sun hasn't fully stretched out yet, but I'm not miserable. I make it to the temple only three or four minutes late. A cat is sitting in the foyer when I get to the door, meowing and meowing. B.K. appears and scoops him up and lets me in.
I told her ahead of time I was up for most any project -- that I'm not officially trained in anything, but I'm fairly handy and reasonably quick learner. But that cleaning and heavy lifting are fine too, if that's what she needs help with. She had a to-do list of projects, and decided that mostly we'd do things together, projects that she can't do alone in the temple, like pulling out the giant ladder and installing new chains on the ceiling fans, or moving a love seat up four flights of stairs. And a dresser down four flights of stairs. Um, yeah. She totally took me up on the heavy lifting. Which I don't mind, I offered it after all, I haven't been to the gym in awhile, just on the bike. But what killed me is that B.K. is about 5'0, maybe 110 pounds soaked, but damn, I was the one sweating and needing to pause on each landing of the stairs to rest and re-grip. She just kept bopping along. I mean, she probably needed those breaks too, but still. I also got to see almost all the behind-the-scenes and secret rooms of the temple. If by "secret" I mostly mean "storage rooms" but I also got to go on all the back winding stairs and see all the bedrooms. There was a funny moment when we moved the couch and underneath was a wooden plank screwed into the ground in lieu of carpeting which covered the rest of the floor. We were both so excited and very close to pulling it out of the ground to see if it would reveal a secret staircase to a basement. Apparently the building used to be a masonic temple! But I knocked a few times and it didn't sound terribly hollow, so we turned back to the task at hand. Part of me is still curious though. Maybe next week.
"Oh, also, depending on how you're feeling, there's a table in the back that needs to be smashed and broken apart and thrown away." Um, hell yeah! I told her that was a perfect task -- I had some anger that could use some releasing. So I got to wield a sledgehammer. It wasn't quite as intensely satisfying as I imagined, since the reason the worktable was being thrown out was that it had been infested with termites and it was old to the wood was easily destroyed and the nails were rusted out. But still. It felt good to get a few whacks in and break it down. Strangely, it reminded me of the batting cages, where even though it initially felt satisfying to wail as hard as possible, it was much more effective and productive to make strategic smaller swings. I suppose there is some metaphoric lesson there.
Now its time for second breakfast. Though its closer to elevensies, really. Then another coconut oil rubdown...my new favorite part of the day. And maybe ice my back. Cause isht, I'm fcking tired.
I'm rousing from sleep before the alarm, but its chilly and the bed is warm and I'm realizing the very sweet dream I just had wasn't reality, so I'm struggling to wake up with the good feeling of the unconscious and not slip into the potential sadness of waking life. The alarm snaps on, the last half of some piano instrumental song, and then the next song starts: Bone-Thugs-N-Harmony's "1st of Tha Month". I chuckle a little, thinking about the person who put that on a mix for me, how its one of her favorite songs, and then I realize, wait, it IS the first of the month! So I get out of bed, trying to be peppy. I'm not exactly failing, but I'm still moving a little slow. I'm out the door and on the bike and still underdressed, its still in the 40s, the sun hasn't fully stretched out yet, but I'm not miserable. I make it to the temple only three or four minutes late. A cat is sitting in the foyer when I get to the door, meowing and meowing. B.K. appears and scoops him up and lets me in.
I told her ahead of time I was up for most any project -- that I'm not officially trained in anything, but I'm fairly handy and reasonably quick learner. But that cleaning and heavy lifting are fine too, if that's what she needs help with. She had a to-do list of projects, and decided that mostly we'd do things together, projects that she can't do alone in the temple, like pulling out the giant ladder and installing new chains on the ceiling fans, or moving a love seat up four flights of stairs. And a dresser down four flights of stairs. Um, yeah. She totally took me up on the heavy lifting. Which I don't mind, I offered it after all, I haven't been to the gym in awhile, just on the bike. But what killed me is that B.K. is about 5'0, maybe 110 pounds soaked, but damn, I was the one sweating and needing to pause on each landing of the stairs to rest and re-grip. She just kept bopping along. I mean, she probably needed those breaks too, but still. I also got to see almost all the behind-the-scenes and secret rooms of the temple. If by "secret" I mostly mean "storage rooms" but I also got to go on all the back winding stairs and see all the bedrooms. There was a funny moment when we moved the couch and underneath was a wooden plank screwed into the ground in lieu of carpeting which covered the rest of the floor. We were both so excited and very close to pulling it out of the ground to see if it would reveal a secret staircase to a basement. Apparently the building used to be a masonic temple! But I knocked a few times and it didn't sound terribly hollow, so we turned back to the task at hand. Part of me is still curious though. Maybe next week.
"Oh, also, depending on how you're feeling, there's a table in the back that needs to be smashed and broken apart and thrown away." Um, hell yeah! I told her that was a perfect task -- I had some anger that could use some releasing. So I got to wield a sledgehammer. It wasn't quite as intensely satisfying as I imagined, since the reason the worktable was being thrown out was that it had been infested with termites and it was old to the wood was easily destroyed and the nails were rusted out. But still. It felt good to get a few whacks in and break it down. Strangely, it reminded me of the batting cages, where even though it initially felt satisfying to wail as hard as possible, it was much more effective and productive to make strategic smaller swings. I suppose there is some metaphoric lesson there.
Now its time for second breakfast. Though its closer to elevensies, really. Then another coconut oil rubdown...my new favorite part of the day. And maybe ice my back. Cause isht, I'm fcking tired.
