[New Yorker Cartoon]
I awoke out of a nightmare calling out, "Nobody picks up after themselves any more!" Sat up in bed, tears prickling in my eyes, trying to get my bearings and remember where I was. A chorus of men had taken over my old child care center and no one was doing anything about it. Shaking my head from side to side I stumbled into the kitchen in the dark looking for coffee. Plopped into my chair by the computer and stared at the screen. I thought about a discussion I had yesterday afternoon where I had opened myself up, sharing thoughts and theories about how men were always a precious commodity in our family, owned by my mother. And how, these past few years, I had decided to bow out of the competition. "Ah, let them have them!" I had said, "The heck with it! I don't want to play that game any more. I am too outspoken for it!" I imagined that the chorus of men taking over my old child care center in my dream represented something to do with that discussion.
Sighing deeply, the early morning, dream tears disappearing, anxious feelings dissipating.
Ada jumps up onto the table by the computer, tail swishing back and forth. She wants to play. I pick up her favorite toy: two large red feathers attached to a string, attached to a pole. When I wave it in the air the feathers flap like a bird. Ada runs after it and jumps high in the air trying to catch it every time. I watch her running back and forth and smile to myself. She plays the game over and over again, pretending the feathers are a bird she is trying to catch.
I think to myself as I swing the pole around and about Ada's head, "I'm not playing any more. Not pretending I have a chance. Not wanting the chance. I don't want to be a yes-woman all the time to buy their love. Been there, done that. I just want to be all the me I can be. And, hey! If they don't like it ... well, the heck with it!"
Sun comes up. It's time for work.
A year ago on Tamarika: Quizzically
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