October 29, 2007

Cold night, frost. I think my comfrey is annihilated, but that may be the only casualty. Another casualty, though, was my curious faith that my new and expensive furnace was working, even though it was heating nothing. A city inspector appeared first thing this morning (steel gray eyes, shaved head, a little dangerous-looking, surprisingly redolent of cologne; woke me right up) to confirm that the gas is not yet hooked up. It’s well past time for the furnace to stop being an issue in my life. Not one winter went by without fussing with the old one, and it was FEBRUARY when I began trying to get this one installed. The final work order is dated August. The universe thinks that by frustrating me in those areas which really bother me–such as being cold-- I will be mellowed into a sense of resignation and acceptance. In this it is quite wrong. I become a steel fist of insistence, a brazen klaxon. The universe should pay better attention.

Noon: Drove with Roland to the DMV to transfer the title to the Ford. We laughed and joked in the car, and I thought what it might be like to have a grown son. Though the actual experience with Roland was sweet and funny, the thought which came after it was the bitterest sorrow and loneliness, and one which now can never be redressed. I don’t remember choosing this. I only remember discovering it come upon me.

Just past midnight. Tomorrow, really. Moon like a crooked cup, spilling whatever was inside. Rehearsal tonight was lousy. I thought, though our directors seemed to think it had leapt forward by light years. Had it? Such a leap would make up for vast areas of the text being skipped over, mostly by me. I was frightened driving home in the suddenly surpassing darkness. Every sudden light was a wild creature leaping from the shadows to collide with my car.