unrelated

I can almost sing in my car again. I can almost lift my voice high enough to sound like a real human being. I can almost belt out at the top of my lungs while people stare at me from the other lane and look away quickly like they’re seeing something they shouldn’t – me changing my socks, my bra, my underwear. I don’t care I change in front of the windows.

I’ve liked the last couple of days where my voice has been low and throaty. Raspy almost. It’s given me a new identity. An old hippie. Janis Joplin. Rock ‘n’ Roll. It’s made me feel sexy and different and new shoes, victoria’s secret. But I’m glad to be getting my voice back. Maybe the time away will make us grow close again. Maybe we won’t fight so much. Maybe when she tells me to be patient I will actually listen. We seemed to be working well this morning. Number 100 of a rewrite and it’s still not complete but we know to be patient. To let the fins turn in the water when it wants to turn.

I found out this morning that there is a man at work who went in for unrelated back problems and they found part of his skull was missing. He bumped his head about a year ago. He went to Paris came back from Paris, work, driving, weekends, normal everyday sorts of things – all without a chunk of protection. They now say he’s in critical condition when only two days ago he was out for back problems. It makes me wonder how often we walk around with parts of ourselves missing and not even know it.

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