Friday, 12 August 2011

Go and tell the King.

(Lady luck, be on my side.)

Today has been a series of three steps forward and two back. Just when I get all caught up the sky begins to sag dangerously around the edges and I adopt my Chicken Little voice, uptight, choked-off, hope we can hold it together just a little longer, no-flights-must-fight stance.

It's rather painful and I am the absolute mistress of Blowing Shit Out of Proportion.

But never mind, it will work out because no one is out to get me and the worst case scenarios can be overcome and I'm hopefully a little panicky over nothing. Hopefully, said in a whisper, fingers crossed behind my back, though I have a headache and a bottle of gin at the ready because I refuse to worry about things anymore and I think part of the fun of life is supposed to involve having a running agenda of Things That Must Be Dealt With but really? That's fucking stupid. I'm more in the camp that does everything that has to be done and then schedules downtime. I guess you can imagine how well that works out, most of the time, right?


I have to admit I've been a little (okay, a lot) nervous about the changes, about the boys working for Batman instead of Caleb. I know Caleb so much better. I can handle him. Batman is still mostly an unknown entity to me. I mean, he knows ME through and through but as far as he goes, well, I am in the dark, mostly by choice, because it made life easier to conduct it without strings, obligations or expectations when it came to him.

So that leaves me a little unsure. A lot hopeful, yes, but once again I find myself leaping carelessly across the chasm, eyes welded shut, teeth gritted in anticipation of what could be a soft landing, if luck is on my side.

And I have never asked her if she is. On my side, that is. Sometimes I'm one hundred percent sure we are a pair, matched forever and sometimes she just up and disappears and returns much later. After the shrapnel has rocked to a stop in a wide radius, she stands looking around innocently, maddeningly saying There was nothing I could have done so how could you have missed me in the first place, Bridget? Those days I swear I'm disowning her and I throw things and cry toward her direction but she stands firm. Other times I turn around to run away and she's right there with such a confident expression and she'll reach forward and pinch me very hard and smile and say stupid, amazing things like See? There was nothing to worry about, was there? I nod, sure she can't stand up to the sort of luck I require now, as I rub my arm where she twisted my thin skin in her strong fingers.

So I give myself a little pep talk and I vow I won't worry so much but then I do and it's pretty much my standard operating procedure and boy, it sure drives everyone crazy but then in a few weeks I can hopefully come back and read these words and have that reassurance that yeah, it all pretty much worked out and really I devote way too much energy to my fear of the inevitable, the uncontrollable and the eventually unimportant.

I'm going to teach myself how to stop that. I'm just not sure how yet. I'll figure it out eventually and you all will be so proud.