Wednesday, July 13, 2005


not long ago i was talking with one of my supervisors. i had just told her that i had gotten teary-eyed at something my son or my husband had said to me.

understand, i get teary-eyed at all sorts of things. if i hear that large hawaiian man singing "somewhere over the rainbow" with his ukelele, i'm a goner. if i'm so happy i'm about to burst, i well up. so i'm emotional, but hardly ever in a negative context. almost always, i'm excited, elated, jubilant and usually that means i'll cry. but when my boss said to me in response to my admission that i was weepy, "well, you're fragile," it made me feel like i was made of pale pink depression glass. her little tiny pebble words hung in the air in front of me and threatened to break me into millions of pieces that would then later have to be sucked up into the cleaning crew's vacuum cleaner. i carefully backed out of her office.

so, now, when this new bloggie-thing warrants comments (or more specifically, doesn't warrant comments) i find myself feeling fragile. it's as if i'm see-through. the words i've written are the outfit i've wrapped around me to shield the transparency i feel in front of the rest of the world.

who knew i would be the meta-journaler already?

1 comment:

Mary Beth said...

This is a lovely bit of writing chickie!