Breathe Deep, or, The Last Entry Of 2012

UPDATE: Went and grabbed my brother for New Years at The House.

I thought it was weird to hear my phone chime in the middle of assigning keys to everyone yesterday morning. It’s not a common time to be getting any messages. Christopher sent a poem and I was unsuspecting enough to read it.

It’s a little thing called darkness,
you know that’s where I went wrong.
It sent me into madness
How you know where I belong

Red the Book I wrote of sadness
I was only fighting on
In my heart you’re always with me
even if its been too long

Every night I drink towards happiness
but you know mine is always gone…
So send us straight on to the darkness
you know that’s where we belong.

Naturally, my eyes just started filling with water. Not now and not here.

I watched the staff collect in a group by the multichannel desk, getting pumped for a new day. I was waiting to unlock the doors, amazed by the hiccups that get to you in the middle of trying to do everything. So utterly frustrating. This is not how we’re going down.

I’ll find it, Christopher, I thought, as if I was about to open the gates to everything that went scattered.

I’m going up north to see my family today. We’re bringing the dogs and all of that. I’ll have my laptop so I can make a little book of all the gardening I’ve done this year, for my aunt and grandma. And I will make a conscious effort to laugh and have a good time. I’ll probably read the manual to my BB Gun on the way there. I suggested pizza to everyone, a wacky idea in the face of Christmas feasts, but it’s different enough that I like it, especially the idea of sparing everyone the hassle of cooking.

Everyone, I could use your help. Knock it out today. Really own what’s left of this year and send yourself blazing into the next. You do that from over there, I’ll do that from over here, and we’ll fight the boss together.

See you all soon, love,

-Autumn May-

When Love Goes Cold

This old treasure, I keep it close. I’ve felt the tremendous weight of it and the wonder of the figures who are preserved in memory, ever-changing in the realms beyond. Every little bit of white that falls to the bottom is special. As I write this I look through my window at the first storm of the season and find myself a little confused as to who, exactly, is in the snow globe.

Was it me? Was it you? Who is holding on to us?

Have you heard the one about the spiritual war, the battle for love that goes on at the other end of the universe? It is the only thing that has ever been too far away… the only secret that I have been unable to fill with enough light to prevent it from turning dark and costly to anyone who carries it in their heart.

I felt something the other day that traveled over many miles.

It sounded like a cry for help, or maybe I just reacted that way. Help, one of us has gone astray.

And it hurt, like it always had. Like that pretty snow globe slipped through your hands and crashed onto your bare feet. Sad. Mad. Broken.

But I kept thinking about it and I realized that such chapters at the other end of the universe are not so easily hammered out. Something so epic is not going to be crushed without a million comets colliding.

It’s okay. It’s going to be okay. It’s only the land between. People have been occupying it for a very long time. I wouldn’t worry too much about the nonsense out there.

The longest distance you could ever go would be across every stream, over every mountain until you were somehow here. So do not worry. Should the impossible ever happen at the end of it all,

I will simply point the way.

Through the Holidays

The gourmet mini cakes of Christmas. Oh my goodness let me just hijack this italic photo description and go on about these things: we have Coconut/Coconut, Retro, Thin Mint, Raspberry, Almond Cherry, Death By Chocolate, do I need to go on? I have been cutting slices from these babies all day.

A new bed set (I am messing these pillows up as I type) two new Furbies and a Daisy BB gun!

When my brother called in the middle of my shift, I answered my phone.

“Hello,” he said, the syllables broken like his throat was hoarse.

“Hey! Merry Christmas! What’s goin’ on?”

“…Oh. Nothing,” he continued, same distress in his voice. He never calls for no reason. I’m thinking there was a fight at the house or that he was in trouble with the police.

“Yeah, we’ll be heading up there soon. Work has been crazy, the holidays are stressful. You gotta be strong. I’m glad you called me. It’s nice to hear you.”

“I just wanted to tell you that I love you.”

Pit of despair and pain in my gut as I hear that. It sounds like it could be someone’s last words. It sounds like goodbye.

I challenge his timeline, insisting on what we do during our visit home. If he was winding down his clock I was fighting him at the crank.

Then I said, “I can tell you’re upset and I’m really sorry and I want you to know I can hear you. I hope you know it’s going to be okay even if it doesn’t seem like it. Please don’t do anything drastic while your emotions are taking over. Don’t do anything to yourself or anyone else that would cause the people you love endless pain. If anything happens to you, that would be worse for us than anything going wrong right now.”

He told me not to worry, repeated that he loved me. And that was it. I quickly phoned my mother and told her that Christopher’s call had me concerned.

“A friend of his was diagnosed with leukemia and that he had been crying. I picked him up in town and he kept saying ‘Autumn’ on the drive home, wouldn’t talk. I think he’s counting his blessings and he’s upset right now. I don’t know the friend, probably one of those little druggies in town.”

Well, that was better than it could have been. I still teared up at work, thinking about my brother’s struggles and how he will probably never be able to live normally like it seems ‘everyone else’ does. Like I have just barely managed with the help of people who love me.

The snow finally arrived, after the storms devastated the south. By the time anything made it up this way it was falling in beautiful white flakes. And for a change, I felt like the one in the snowglobe. I was in one of the worlds I care about so much.

Still hadn’t gotten the heater fixed in my car, though. Windshield fogged up on the late drive home until I was a danger to myself and everyone around me. Sight is funny that way – I had been driving unwisely for several weeks as it just started out as little blind spots. Then the glass became more dirty every time I rubbed at it with my hand, worsening degrees of sight. But I could always figure out where I was and I always made it home… until Christmas Eve. As soon as cars started passing from the opposite direction and their lights hit my windshield, I was blind.

 

Of Fame and Shame

On the day when the wagons come,
I just pray that you let me on.

My local hero came back. I shook his hand. The day before the supposed end of the world, I shook the hand of the apocolyptic evil-and-stupidity-punishing magic boogie man duke and told him that I love his stories. Maybe it had nothing to do with him; maybe I just wanted him to know who I was.

His hand was soft and squishy.

***

So I just want to say before I try to get some sleep, that I caught someone today. He took a cell phone case, opened it and stuffed the package behind a bunch of messy camera bags. Then he went over to an empty department, looked both ways and slipped the product into his coat pocket.

Rather than call the police, we told his mother and his mother just about beat his ass.

“I have MONEY for that. That isn’t even expensive. WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?” etc etc. In front of us he had to show everyone where he’d stuffed the package and I pretended to page the entire store with every little detail. Not only did I want him to be embarrassed and in trouble – I wanted the mother to remember it and consider getting to know her son a little better.

AND SO HIS WAS A WALK OF SHAME.

Conference Call, An Inside Look


Breakfee de champeeowns.

As an experimental treat I will now conduct my conference minutes via Word and post its contents.

267 autumns here, 734 joe’s here whoops almost missed roll call.

External is like woah, no duh. We have to stay diligent. Never put yourself into a situation to get hurt. Work with your local authorities.

CONFIDENTIAL mill count corrections big wig talking to his peers says it’s velocity and product control.

Protect the assets in our stores. Oh really is that what I should do.

They’ll come into town like the carnival and sweep all retailers. That’s who these people are.

I think he just said “produck” and not “product”

Great, ten new alerts. Those will be fun to read.

Shoplifter got killed at wal mart and some of their ap agents got their asses kicked. We aren’t wal mart.

Information coming down the pipeline to make changes. We need to stop the bleeding around the shrink piece.

Entering with loose clothing, putting product in clothing.

People asking for help loading items. And they’ve stolen them.

They ship it to a local fencer and the fencer sells it to stores posing as a vendor.

Managers. (<—worst note taker ever. as if I'd remember what that meant.)

Deter loss, front lanes. These associates are new, gullible.

Fri-sat-sun checking receipts.

Safe secure profitable audit – jesus caught internal theft. That is so weird to name your kid jesus to me. Hey-seuss, whatever. It looks like jesus.

O shit I just hiccup’d really loud. And Gigi just barked. Don’t apologize. They will never know it was you.

When in doubt count it out GET IT? INVENTOREEEE

“Greg this is not to disparage you, this is a learning process for everyone”. HAHA Greg, suckerrrr.

“Autumn, if you want to speak to that.” …… ummmmmm. Blah blah blah.

Overbudget meeting. Tell a manager to tell ME when it is necessary and when the meeting will be scheduled. My boss wants to be there.

Current week circular in the drawer.

End notes, get dressed.

Thoughts Of December

Ana and I took a few classes together. The smell of death kept most people away but that didn’t really bother me. It was the chatter. I couldn’t stand to listen to it. The drama in her life was nothing special although it seemed to captivate onlookers.

They say she never stayed out late. Always turned in by six. She just didn’t have the energy.

There were such romantic depictions of her diseased boyfriend, Rex. Together they denied how hard they were trying to make it work. All of their photos looked like atrocities from Facebook: smug poses and pursed lips.

I remember passing the test and glancing over at the front of her paper. Her score was so low, and yet she looked oddly pleased with herself.

Dot dot dot… get it? It’s anorexia! Nevermind. I’m in a weird mood.

Work is blegh. During my weekend off my workplace…suffered some losses. I really wanted to type “my workplace got ass-raped” but I instantly worried about offending someone by substituting one crime with another. Especially with ‘rape’. But seriously, so much for bragging about my location’s absence of that. Sure, I was fuming mad, at one point close to tears as I watched the video footage. Then I decided that “not on my watch” is a personal choice, and I’m not going to flip out over someone else’s decisions on days when I’m not there.

I’ve gotten to this point where I turn around and see so much behind me. People, concepts, ideas, obstacles, all of that – and so much of it, it seemed like it was running right along beside me if not always in front of me. I guess that’s a true measurement of success, when you suddenly notice that distance between you and everything else.

This morning, though, I had a notion that was hard to shake. Dreams are so interesting to me, so unpredictable that it’s as if they’re more than your mind remixing everything you’ve known. Unfortunately the outcome isn’t always a positive feeling.

There is something about the way I think or the way I rest that allows something to seep through the keyholes of every locked door twelve floors up and twelve rooms back. Then I return to a place where I would never choose to be. The dream, myself, and so it was.

A sort of fantasy?” I wondered, after I woke up. And I knew that it would never be let out. Never be unlocked, because some thoughts and feelings disrupt the common flow of humanity. Some truths hurt others unless they are silenced.

Wow, I went from ass-rape to hidden emotion.

There is an entire field of mass chatter, between me and who I’m with. My personal universe is rotating in my head, the world is revolving around us, there’s the conversation and then there’s that space, where things are appropriately filtered and distributed accordingly. Four major energies in my most every moment. That’s where sideways gazes come from, when you look at someone else, look at their eyes like foreign planets and you know you aren’t connected.

You know you’re not in there. Or maybe you just don’t give a damn because people generally aren’t in each other’s eyeballs anyway.

That dead, across-the-table, judge and be judged space. I’ve seen what we’ve done with it.

Thing is, it’s admittedly easy to eliminate that space when I’m not there. Just as well there is the majority of my sun-filled life, and no way in hell that I would ever remove that space for everyone who knows me. It’s one of the major reasons why the conglomerate Facebook is poorly suited to me.

It’s just another Myspace. And I have enough of those.

I have enough of those.

In other news, I really want a Molly Maid. I don’t know anyone who has a housekeeper or how to trust them (speaking of ‘judgement’…) so I’ll probably end up picking up my own shit in a couple of minutes, here.

We’re still experiencing Autumn in Michigan. Right now there’s a light drizzle, allowing me another day without having to figure out how to drive without a defroster. It’s a bit odd. It’s like time is dragging its feet, waiting on me to still do something.

And you’d better come up with it fast. Everything is going to rot if it’s not properly frozen.

Sounds like half the shit in my fridge.

Best get to it, then.