Mar. 21st, 2017

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Imaan would not listen to me when I gently, gently, gently pointed out to her that she wasn’t yet ready for prime time i.e. community college. She’s a headstrong 21 year old after all. And actually, it’s good that she doesn’t listen to me when I tell her stuff like that.

So I spent a large chunk of yesterday chauffeuring her to the local community college, interpreting and watching while she got her heart broken by half a dozen administrators. Yes, she’s made great strides in spoken English. But she can barely read or write. So, no, she’s not an appropriate candidate for college at this time.

Still, we got enough information to put together an actionable list:

1) Get official ID card verifying Dutchess County residency

2) Hire exploitively expensive academic processing agency to procure Rabat High transcripts.

“But I have transcripts!” Imaan objected. “I bring with me. I pay $40 to have them translated into English!”

“Right,” I said. “But see, you could have changed them. All those Fs on your transcripts? You change them into As!”

“But I have no Fs,” said Imaan. “I am A student.”

“Right,” I said. “But they don’t know that.”

I left who “they” were deliberately vague.


Imaan wanted to take me out to lunch afterwards, but I didn’t want her to waste her hard-earned money on me-e-e-eeeee and besides, I had this yearning, burning, churning feeling deep inside. Drive home right this very minute, now! it hissed.

And exactly two minutes after I drove by it, a restaurant on 9G burst into flame. The building was destroyed; the entire road was shut down for 10 hours.

That was my second woo-woo-woo Cue Twilight Zone theme experience for the day!

My first was as I was grabbing a favorite bracelet of mine from my jewelry box. It’s a trinkety little thing, tiny plaques with pictures of saints and rhodonite beads strung together on cheap black elastic.

I’d be sad if this bracelet fell apart, I thought.

So, naturally, five minutes later, it did fall apart, leading me to wonder:

A) Had I jumped a tiny, tiny, tiny distance into the future?

B) Had thinking about the bracelet falling apart caused the bracelet to fall apart?

C) Was this just a coinci-dinky?


I’m in a fretful mood this morning. My little plate feels overfilled. Of course, there’s very little that I have to do these days, but there’s a lot of stuff that I think I should want to do, so I tend to pile it on. And then I get resentful.

Really, it’s remarkable how little I would do – or would have done my entire life – had not my particular dissociation neurosis taken the form of a really annoying and nagging super-ego.


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Every Day Above Ground

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