Jacqui (jacqui) wrote,

I had a little fun writing a letter to my neighbors and dropping it off with some flyers the neighborhood association left here while I was gone. I felt so bad that there was a time sensitive piece of information in there, a kind of terrorist information meeting that's being held at a temple near our house. As much as I hate anything fear fanning, i would have liked to go, and I definitely would have liked my neighbors to have known about it. They'll have more though. Beau helped me. He's so sweet. I walk along and hand him the letters and then he runs them up to the mailboxes. I got to see my neighbor Carol and she gave me some fresh catnip for the kitties. They are roaring around the house now knowing things over, guess they like it. Too funny, wish you could see them.

Mom wants fruit, she was a little jealous because her mean roommate got a peach cobbler and she didn't. The mean roommate didn't eat it but Mom couldn't ask her for it because they're fighting, something like that. I was planning on going to Best Buys because I had promised Beau last night that I would take him back today when we discovered that his new speakers didn't work. What to do, what to do? I took a Xanax. (Heh, I just had to teach my spell checker how to spell Xanax, don't let me become addicted okay?) Mom and the fruit wins. She wants papayas, mangos and bananas, poor thing. I want a life. Am I the meanest most selfish human being on the planet? Why am I so messed up and ambivalent about caring for my mother? I think people who work in health care are saints, I mean it, seriously, they are the most selfless giving people on the planet.

I try to live my life by being aware of the effect I am having on anyone with whom I have contact or exchange. I want to make people's lives happier and brighter and I think if I am open to sensing how they may be feeling as a result of interplay with me that I will then be a better, kinder, more loving person. That's the plan but it makes me feel pretty crappy sometimes because the standard I set for myself is too high for me to reach. My dear friend Susan Pomerantz always used to say that I suffer because I know where I want to be but the gradient is just too steep a climb.

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