I was gonna post about somethin’ else but then somethin’ else happened.
I work by myself, building stuff for people who are power tool challenged. I like it. I feel, I hope, I’m helping them in my little way to build their dreams.
Today, I went by a fairly big job, checking with the subs, answering questions and what not, and once things were settled I went to another job to build a fence. It was nice and cool and quiet and I was gettin’ into some me time.
My cell rang.
It was a friend of the customer I had just left saying that she had been trying to reach her all morning and she wasn’t answering her phone nor her door and she was worried because she was a fucking manic depressive and had tried to commit suicide the year before and was worried that maybe she had succeeded where she had failed before and could I possibly meet her in twenty minutes back at her house?
Whew.
So I hurried back and pounded on the door. When I didn’t get an answer I tried the knob and, finding it unlocked, went in, yelling her name.
Do you know what it’s like to call out to the maybe dead? It dries up your spit.
I moved through the house, my yells bouncing around, scared what I’d find. When I got to her bedroom I yelled louder ’cause I could see her, a mound under the blankets, with her dog lying next to her.
She didn’t move so I went to her and shook her and she woke up and I told her that her friend was worried sick about her and she needed to call her and I went back out into the noise and grit of construction around her house and buried myself in it.
Life’s gotta lighten up a little bit.
oceandoggy.com 