Writing has always been a way for me to cope. Sometimes, I write just to express my frustration, sadness, anger, whatever. Sometimes, I can’t talk about a situation so I have only my words to vent. A lot of my writing never sees the light of day.
I decided to post this anyway.
I wrote this last week on the Wednesday before Mother’s Day. John was staying with me for a week.
Hi God, it’s me, Karen.
You know, the one who is really grateful for all my blessings.
I’m grateful, too, that you’ve given me patience. With my son having Tourette’s Syndrome and schizophrenia that was especially important. Once again, thank you.
Thank you for my health, God, that I never take it for granted. That I always value it like the treasure it is.
Thank you for my dog who, although a certifiable, AKC registered Pain in the Ass – if you’ll pardon the vernacular, God – is a wonderful companion.
Thank you for giving me the ability to write books and to escape through the stories of people I would like to meet in person.
But, God, I need some help here.
You see, I have gnats, God. Now it’s not like I don’t value all your creatures. I have problems with some of them like roaches (and a small list of other things), but the gnats are beginning to drive me slightly bonkers, God. I feel like gathering my skirt in my fists, kicking up my heels, and running screaming to Oklahoma. I originally thought about Florida, but they have Noseeums, and California probably has Surfer Dude Roaches. Oklahoma seems just about right. Of course, that means I won’t ever see some of my University of Texas alumni friends again.
Thank you for all the ideas from the Internet. Thank You for the idea of buying the zapper. I don’t know what I would have done without it. But the constant sound of zap, zap, zap, (times a million) is beginning to get on my last frayed nerve.
The first dozen times it happened, my son said, “What’s that?”
“Another gnat going to his maker.”
“It’s pretty loud.”
“The better for me to celebrate,” I said.
I’ve had two exterminators here in the last week, God, two plumbers, and a partridge in a pear tree. I had to get rid of the pear tree in case gnats were breeding there.
Nobody knows where the gnats are coming from, God. We’ve inspected this house up and down and the only thing anyone can figure out was that it was the xeriscaping. If that’s the case, could You maybe send a small lightning bolt down to zap them before they get into my house?
I have learned, over the years, that nothing happens without a reason. I realize I’m supposed to have Flash, that he’s in my life to do something. Maybe make me more sociable? Nah, that’s not it. How about teaching me patience? That could be it. Maybe training me to go without sleep? I suspect that has something to do with it too.
Since John has come to stay with me for a week, God, Flash has been a basket case. He really doesn’t like his schedule upset. First of all, the zapping is getting to him too. Secondly, whenever John comes home, it’s late and we’re already in bed. Flash, however, wakes up, be it 1:00 or 3:00 AM. Voila! I’m up. Then I try to get him calmed down and he growls for the next two hours, making that little old man mutter in the back of his throat.
In the morning he runs from my office to John’s bedroom door in an endless loop. He only stops to get kibble or water or to bark at the zapper.
The darling son
You know how much I love John, God. However, I think there’s a reason grown children are supposed to move into their own homes. Things like wrappers and dirty dishes, wet towels and dirty clothes, eating weird stuff that can’t be good for them and… I probably don’t need to continue.
The strangest thing has started happening to me, God. I’m doing mother stuff. Every day I go into his room and make the bed, straighten up, toss things in the garbage, give him a fresh towel, pick up his dirty clothes. I’m offering advice on his diet. I’m telling him to be safe. I’m requesting that he shave closer. I urge him not to drive a certain route, do a certain something, watch a certain show.
In other words, God, I am becoming a pain in the ass, just like the zapper and the dog.
When John isn’t living here I’m perfectly able to treat him like a real live human adult being. I guess it’s something about being under my roof that makes me freaky.
Today is Wednesday, God. Only two more days to go.
PS – John’s gone home and we’re both laughing about how difficult it is to live together. Flash has settled down, and the gnat situation is easing a little. When it started raining, the gnats disappeared. I still think the xeriscaping is responsible.
Sometimes it’s the little things bothering you the most. Gnats are about as small as they get. So is a strange dog.
What about you? Any small annoyance driving you bonkers?