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Rain and Fatigue
Dec. 6th, 2014 08:46 amI was sitting in the middle of the Tax-Aide class, being droned at about railroad pensions and early IRA disbursements when I could feel it moving toward me – like a fast-moving fog bank or something. Depression. Peggy Lee setting up for the mike check in my corpus callosum: Is That All There Is?
Part of it was that thing that always happens when you exceed escape velocity for some brief interval of time and then gravity reclaims you. Trip – over. Now what?
Part of it was that I don’t want to be doing tax returns for rich white retirees who can’t be bothered with HR Block. I want to be doing tax returns for working class families for whom the $1,500 or so they get back from their earned income credit. It’s bizarre to me that Dutchess County -- which certainly has its fair share of poverty -- doesn’t sponsor any such program. I suppose if I pass this certifying test (by no means a foregone conclusion) and stick around Dutchess County for another couple of years (see previous qualifier), I could set one up.
It’s raining. It will rain all day. I have a ton of things to do. Necessary chores and money-making activities. I don’t want to do any of them. I’m tired. Not sure whether this is legitimate lack of sleep or the fact that I went to see It’s a Wonderful Life at the Culinary Institute last night – a rather bizarre partnership with a regional theater troupe because CIA has this huge building that they don’t know what to do with – and there was a dessert reception after a play. At a certain point, all those tiramisus, and gorgeous layerings of tapioca and mango, and hand-crafted chocolates, and lighter-than-air biscuits start to taste alike – cloying and sweet. I did have fun, but I kinda had to force myself.
I want to write about the trip, but I’m braindead.
Part of it was that thing that always happens when you exceed escape velocity for some brief interval of time and then gravity reclaims you. Trip – over. Now what?
Part of it was that I don’t want to be doing tax returns for rich white retirees who can’t be bothered with HR Block. I want to be doing tax returns for working class families for whom the $1,500 or so they get back from their earned income credit. It’s bizarre to me that Dutchess County -- which certainly has its fair share of poverty -- doesn’t sponsor any such program. I suppose if I pass this certifying test (by no means a foregone conclusion) and stick around Dutchess County for another couple of years (see previous qualifier), I could set one up.
It’s raining. It will rain all day. I have a ton of things to do. Necessary chores and money-making activities. I don’t want to do any of them. I’m tired. Not sure whether this is legitimate lack of sleep or the fact that I went to see It’s a Wonderful Life at the Culinary Institute last night – a rather bizarre partnership with a regional theater troupe because CIA has this huge building that they don’t know what to do with – and there was a dessert reception after a play. At a certain point, all those tiramisus, and gorgeous layerings of tapioca and mango, and hand-crafted chocolates, and lighter-than-air biscuits start to taste alike – cloying and sweet. I did have fun, but I kinda had to force myself.
I want to write about the trip, but I’m braindead.
