why "the box"

My Photo
the chelle box
The Skinner Box is a chamber used to study the behavior animals. We are simply human animals. My life is an ongoing experiment-- Joe, Eliza, and I are the rats. The Chelle Box is my world.
View my complete profile

7.07.2009

not down.

If I'm not down, does that mean I'm on my way up?

I have not blogged. For that matter, I haven't been doing much of anything. I've been working. I've been completing some school related tasks, but am actually behind in writing my thesis. I am lazy, a total slacker, utterly worthless. I have a scholarship and don't do much of anything of late. I haven't been feeling well, and well, it seems I don't feel well a lot of the time. I miss my family, especially around their birthdays. My sister turned 20, my brother 31, and my dad—well, we'll leave that out. This time of year is difficult. My sister, Kristen, has been gone for 3 years. How did the time pass, so innocently, so auspiciously, without her? Time didn't mean to rip my soul apart. But it has. I'm on a boring, uninspiring, gluten-free diet. Eliza is gone and Joe is really struggling with this. I am too, but try to not be, because it's harder for him. I mothered her for the past 5 years. Now she's gone.

Still, I feel pretty damn good. Eliza's cat (my God, I almost called him my cat), is whining. Mostly it's annoying, but it's a little comical, maybe even cute. I got back from work late and felt great about that. I was home late because I worked hard. I got complimented by the Director of the school. I'm working at a school for children with autism. It's a pretty long and mundane drive and worth every cent paid in tolls and gas. I'm getting stellar experience and can't get enough of the little guys and gals I work with. This is quite amazing since I frequently spend 2 hours at a time being screamed and clawed at. The puzzle each of them present is intriguing and irresistible. The progress I get to facilitate and witness is exciting. I love my job. I love my career path.

Joe and I have teetered throughout the past year of struggles and we are solid. He is my rock, as horribly cheesy as that is. Let's try something a little less cliché—he is my vice. Meaning, he holds me together. He holds me steady against the edge of the work bench. But it's important to note that he's more than that. He is my friend and lover.

Now if I could just get on the productive train and out of the Land of Disobey. Why? Why do I think these due dates and timelines don't really apply to me? I'm going to write my thesis. I'm going to go running more often. I'm going to thank Joe and Eliza for being my family.

Now, I am going to have a drink and give a toast: to family, serenity amongst chaos, and moving on up.


 

7.04.2009

Shouts & Murmurs: Making Friends: newyorker.com

Shouts & Murmurs: Making Friends: newyorker.com

You should read this. It's a fictional conversation between a single woman and a child on the airplane. Priceless.