Reset Forty-Nine, Day Forty-Six
Jul. 9th, 2023 08:53 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rejectomorphOh, is it Sunday? I totally lost track and don't remember Saturday at all. I think I must have slept a lot. There is a vague memory of going to lie down in the afternoon, then waking up to see the twilight around the window blinds, but going back to sleep and waking again quite late. Then I might have gotten up and eaten something, but I think I went back to bed before midnight, thinking short nap, but then not waking again until almost five o'clock this morning and having no idea what day it was, but if I'd had to guess I'd have said Saturday was just beginning. But it was over. Alas, Saturday!
But now I do recall something that happened that morning. I went to put away my purchases from the drug store, and discovered that one of the product boxes was entirely empty. It was small box that is supposed to have a small tube of ointment fir ingrown toenail and a few bandages all held in place by a bit of folded cardboard, and none of it was there. Someone had apparently shoplifted the contents of the box and left the empty box on the shelf. But I called the store and the guy apologized and said he would have a new box for me to pick up at the service desk, but it's going to be a hassle to arrange to fetch it. My niece has to drive across town and get the empty box and receipt here and then back to the store and then back here, and I hate to pester her again so soon. But I really need the stuff for my toenail, and it was pretty expensive too.
It's only supposed to get up to 86 degrees today, and go all the way down to 59 tonight. What luxury! It will help me forget for a while the horror of (now) eleven straight days of triple-digit highs coming up later this month.
Sunday Verse
by Maria Wislawa Anna Szymborska
My apologies to chance for calling it necessity
My apologies to necessity if I'm mistaken, after all.
Please, don't be angry, happiness, that I take you as my due.
May my dead be patient with the way my memories fade.
My apologies to time for all the world I overlook each second.
My apologies to past loves for thinking that the latest is the first.
Forgive me, distant wars, for bringing flowers home.
Forgive me, open wounds, for pricking my finger.
I apologise for my record of minuets to those who cry from the depths.
I apologise to those who wait in railway stations for being asleep today at five a.m.
Pardon me, hounded hope, for laughing from time to time.
Pardon me, deserts, that I don't rush to you bearing a spoonful of water.
And you, falcon, unchanging year after year, always in the same cage,
you gaze always fixed on the same point in space,
forgive me, even if it turns out you were stuffed.
My apologies to the felled tree for the table's four legs.
My apologies to great questions for small answers.
Truth, please don't pay me much attention.
Dignity please be magnanimous.
Bear with me, O mystery of existence, as I pluck the occasional thread from your train.
Soul, don't take offense that I've only got you now and then.
My apologies to everyone that I can't be everywhere at once.
My apologies to everyone that I can't be each woman and each man.
I know that I won't be justified as long as I live,
since I myself stand in my own way.
Don't bear me ill will, speech, that I borrow weighty words,
then labor heavily so that they may seem light.
But now I do recall something that happened that morning. I went to put away my purchases from the drug store, and discovered that one of the product boxes was entirely empty. It was small box that is supposed to have a small tube of ointment fir ingrown toenail and a few bandages all held in place by a bit of folded cardboard, and none of it was there. Someone had apparently shoplifted the contents of the box and left the empty box on the shelf. But I called the store and the guy apologized and said he would have a new box for me to pick up at the service desk, but it's going to be a hassle to arrange to fetch it. My niece has to drive across town and get the empty box and receipt here and then back to the store and then back here, and I hate to pester her again so soon. But I really need the stuff for my toenail, and it was pretty expensive too.
It's only supposed to get up to 86 degrees today, and go all the way down to 59 tonight. What luxury! It will help me forget for a while the horror of (now) eleven straight days of triple-digit highs coming up later this month.
Sunday Verse
Under One Small Star
by Maria Wislawa Anna Szymborska
My apologies to chance for calling it necessity
My apologies to necessity if I'm mistaken, after all.
Please, don't be angry, happiness, that I take you as my due.
May my dead be patient with the way my memories fade.
My apologies to time for all the world I overlook each second.
My apologies to past loves for thinking that the latest is the first.
Forgive me, distant wars, for bringing flowers home.
Forgive me, open wounds, for pricking my finger.
I apologise for my record of minuets to those who cry from the depths.
I apologise to those who wait in railway stations for being asleep today at five a.m.
Pardon me, hounded hope, for laughing from time to time.
Pardon me, deserts, that I don't rush to you bearing a spoonful of water.
And you, falcon, unchanging year after year, always in the same cage,
you gaze always fixed on the same point in space,
forgive me, even if it turns out you were stuffed.
My apologies to the felled tree for the table's four legs.
My apologies to great questions for small answers.
Truth, please don't pay me much attention.
Dignity please be magnanimous.
Bear with me, O mystery of existence, as I pluck the occasional thread from your train.
Soul, don't take offense that I've only got you now and then.
My apologies to everyone that I can't be everywhere at once.
My apologies to everyone that I can't be each woman and each man.
I know that I won't be justified as long as I live,
since I myself stand in my own way.
Don't bear me ill will, speech, that I borrow weighty words,
then labor heavily so that they may seem light.
