welcome to the working week

there's a song by Elvis Costello called "Welcome to the Working Week." catchy tune by far. the verse goes: "welcome to the working week/ i know it don't thrill ya/ i hope it don't kill ya/ welcome to the working week/ ya gotta do it/ gotta do it/ so ya better get to it." well, it almost killed me! so this is how other people do it! this has been the loooongest week of my life. monday was long and tiring, but i had that adrenaline/new kid thing going. i could have been shoveling coals in Newcastle, but would have had that "new thing" eagerness. monday night - feet swollen and screaming. smoking 3 cigs at a time on the way home. didn't have the energy to eat dinner but felt i should since my husband cooked the wegmans recipe i left for him. tues. - almost cried in the shower. is it possible to be this tired and live? my little girldog was out of her natural mind. she doesn't understand why i keep leaving her all day. she's bored and scared. i went to bed at who knows when. wednesday - do i dare quit?? the people are nice. my feet are numb. i get 30 mins to throw down lunch and smoke and call whomever on my cellphone. but the lunchroom is nice and the coffee is free. have not left work at 7pm yet. the cash drawer is always off. I'm tempted to keep a roll of change in my purse and just throw in the missing dollar or whatever. just let me go home! went to bed at 9pm. thurs - got up at 7:30am and took little girldog for a walk. showered at my leisure and went to work. wondered when i would carve out a minute or 2 for art. that part is making me sad, but i had a good attitude about going to work since i wasn't feeling guilty about girldog. came home and decided my routine would be to go to bed at 9-9:30 and get up at 7-7:30 and walk her. it's really the only time i get to walk all day - mostly it's standing in 1 spot for 8 hours or moving within a 15-foot area. she's happy, i'm happy. friday went very well. everyone gets along well at work. it's not horrible. i'm actually starting to learn what it is i should know. despite my misgivings at 11am on monday. i even got a copy machine to work today! yippee! i will never take a saturday or sunday for granted EVER again. even if i win the lottery this weekend, which i'm praying i do. don't let me kid ya - i'm not cut out for the working world. so my friend katie is dying. she found out about 8 months ago that she has melanoma and was sent home to die. she is one of my Most Special People. she's been fine up until about a week ago. i don't want her to suffer - she's too good for that. she doesn't deserve that. but i also don't want her to die. i want to be able to call her up and say "KATIE JANE!" and she says "hey Linda Lou. How you doin'?" i've never heard Katie swear. not in all our years at 911. the closest she came was on a night when the 4-letter words were flying like goose poop and hell had unleashed itself upon the city....shootings, stabbings, fires...name it and there it was. she said "effin'" and i think "what the hell-o." nothing bothered her, at least not to where she'd take it out on someone else. even though that was allowed at 911. she cared deeply but took no shit. in her own southern-fried 5-foot tall-can't hear without her glasses-on way katie let you know how it would be. my stepkids were threatened with quotes from Kate - "don't make me beat your ba-hind," "i will beat you, and don't even think about callin' no police, cause hah-ney (honey with a southern accent) they gone see the name and they won't be comin' to help y'all." she has a way of saying "shoot" (as in - darn) that lasts forever. something like "shee-oooot" with the "e" and "o" sound all smushed up together. and everything ends in that "hah-ney" that defies spelling. If you meet Katie, you either love her or fear her. and if you fear her, you didn't take time to know her. and that would be your loss for sure. it's not likely she will live till Christmas - a holiday she never celebrated anyway, because she's a Jehovah Witness. it's unlikely i'll ever be able to tell her what she has meant to me. there aren't words. and even more unlikely that she'd ever let me finish telling her if i started. she's all like that. but no matter how hard, i will try. she never got a computer, or email, or callwaiting. so i can't hide behind a keyboard, or caller ID. remember the days? you'd have to actually talk to the person. or write a letter. when words meant more, i think, because they were thoughtfully constructed. not just flung out into the internet or cable with the click of a mouse. when you actually have to take time to find a piece of paper and a stamp, then you think a little harder about the contents of the envelope, i think. not that it's all about me, but this has been a year of losses. it has helped me focus on what i have, even if i don't HAVE it, and appreciate it more. like saturdays. and girldogs. and Katie. L.