"Oh! There is always time for lubrication!!!"
The Universe is on a decidedly nasty streak lately. I'm about at my wit's end (let's face it... it was a short hop no matter how you look at it). Birddog is down for the count - has some kind of leakage that I don't know how to fix. All of my mechanically minded pals are currently out of town.
Murphy and his friggin' sense of timing never sleep. I've also received notice that my lease is being terminated and I (we) will have to move by September 30th. Do I have the funds for a deposit on new digs? Hardly. Do I have a clue where to go or what to do? Nuh-uh.
On top of all that, I'm so completely mired in stuff at work that I don't have time to breathe.
I'm not sleeping well, and when I do my dreams are chaotic, stressful and scary.
Oh, and we're shooting up to 90 degrees today and holding there for three days. Yay. You all know how I just love hot weather. (Mind you don't slip in my oozing sarcasm... it's everywhere.)
The Gypsy whispers, "Sell it all. Fuck 'em if they can't take a joke. Joke 'em if they can't take a fuck. Come with meeeeeeee......" I hear ya, G-girl. Trust me, it won't take much to convince me at this point.
Jonathan says I should go back to Hungary. Oh yeah. There's some solid grounding. I could see that. Easily. Smart lad, that one. Go live where the heart of the gypsy beats the strongest? Go to where the very ground reaches out to wrap me in an embrace, to the place my heart has never really left? Go to where the people speak my language? Where an appreciation for aesthetic (both in art and in nature) is standard? Where the very food on the table hollers, "You're home!"? Where it all began with Rose Nemes in 1903? No, even before her, with the woman whose shawl I have in my possession, and who knows with whom it began before that? Go there? Yeah. Oh, hell yeah.
Maybe the Universe is just trying to get my ass in gear.