SPACE ODDITY . . .

I used to think that song was about me. But speaking of oddities, isn't it odd that a relaxing evening can be totally UNrelaxing.

And isn't it odd that just when one knee is healing and becoming strong (or so one thinks), you bash the other one into a counter such that multiple small blood bruises form and you feel the bone(s) scraping against the inside of your skin every time you bend your leg.

And isn't it odd that when a medical student friend carefully mulls over the symptoms of your latest defective body part, you feel warmly comforted and cared for.

And isn't it odd that events you always looked forward to, you just don't look forward to anymore.

And isn't it odd to understand that there are just people in this world you simply cannot be friends with, not because you don't like them, but because it's just not meant to be, and so the wall must be built up again.

And isn't it odd to realize one day that you don't like yourself very much anymore, because you're not the person you thought you were and you're definitely not the person others wish you could be, and really, grace is harder to give to yourself in the end, even if the whole world has offered it to you on a silver platter.

And isn't it always, ALWAYS, excruciatingly odd that you can spend the whole day in a dazed, sleepy, exhausted, bone-aching stupor, then be completely and agonizingly awake the moment you lie down in a comfortable, warm, welcoming, safe bed.