Follow the Bouncing… I’m Who

Sometimes I think I have discovered a new game; Follow the Bouncing Brain (goodness that word makes me queasy, must be too many zombie movies). My mind (much better word) is, as you may have noticed, all over the place these days; bright sunny places and dark sad places, they all stream one into the next. Some are purely fictional and others are as close to reality as memory can manage; I believe they are all, to some extent, influenced by three major factors.

The headaches and medication adjustments we have all, I am positive, heard more than enough about. The third influence I think I will not dwell on overlong either, for two reasons, primarily in consideration of the younglings (C&G) Don coaches and secondly in consideration for Don. When I first started this blog it was under a pseudonym and for the express purpose of giving me someone (not literally, even I am not quite that loopy) to talk to during the very long, very lonely (hence the name) months when Don is busy coaching. I suppose I will have to find another sympathetic ear to whisper to now, for if Don is correct, the occasional youngling stops in here for a little light reading. The loneliness has set in early this year and I find myself reciting Moaning Myrtle's line from Harry Potter and The Chamber of Secrets, "I'm distraught!" I am not really, it's just fun to say and surely, you take my meaning.

Another thought bouncing round up there in the old brainpan, the significance of the songs that some of you may choose to listen to while you are hanging out here. Each of the songs has a special meaning for me; for instance, Elvira by The Oakridge Boys. Our niece, Cari, when she was just a wee Baunie lassie used to sing and dance to that song and because she is so dear to me, of course any memory connected to her is as well. Seasons In the Sun by Terry Jacks is a song that caused my youngest brother, Jimmy, to cry when it came out because at the tender age of three or four years old he understood that the song was about death. The Last Unicorn by America is on there because it is my anthem; I am alive! I could continue on down the list of 99 songs but I am sure you would rather I go on to the next fascinating topic.

This next is an item that makes me furious; yesterday, I received in the mail an announcement from Cambridge Who's Who. To quote, "It is my pleasure to inform you that you are being considered for inclusion into the 2008/2009 Cambridge Who's Who Among Executive and Professional Women…" Let me be brutally honest here; I know what the Who's Who books are. We have laws in the United States to prevent people from losing there jobs due to health reasons; I have not worked since October 8, 2002 when a locally owned insurance agency I worked for determined that I was too addle-brained from the new medication regime I had begun to work. They could not give me time off so they "let me go" and packed me up and shoved me out the door like a cooperate thief. The point is, after those experiences there are days when I don't feel qualified to clean my own toilet let alone be listed in some book that no one but others listed will ever read. Sadly, it would indeed be an honor for me to be there, given what has happened in the six years past, regrettably, I would not deserve the honor, addled as I am these days. Catch 22.

There is you know; there is always hope.