The Principle of Lift

Car-o-lyne rhymes with 'fine'.  Which is ironic.  Because I'm not fine.  I'm angry.  And tired.  And under-appreciated.  And bitter.  And 40 pounds over weight.  And alone.  Not alone alone.  I have kids and a husband, but sometimes I feel like I'm here all by myself.

My damn cellphone is a better speller than I am, that little red wavy line under my misspellings calls more attention to my inadequacy than to a potential word error.  My dryer has recently proclaimed itself more adept at determining how long something should tumble.  It actually overrode me the other day.  I set it for 15 minutes and the damn thing honked at me and informed me that was a waste of energy due to the moisture level of the clothing and I should set it for 10 minutes.  I'm angry.  Did I mention that one?

Car-o-lyne rhymes with 'fine'.  I'm not fine.  Right from the very beginning, when I got my name, I have not been fine.  She gave him one job.  My Father.  "Go with the nurse and fill out the paperwork," and he couldn't even spell my name correctly.  So instead of being just Carolyne, now I'm Carolyne rhymes with fine, and from the very start, people who think they know me have to be corrected.  I'm bitter.  Did I mention that one?

That's how I seem to start every relationship.  A tacet here's what you think you know about me from all the information you have.  But you're wrong.  I don't even know you and I know you're wrong. 

I want to be fine though. 

I think at this point I've been down for so long that I don't even know which direction is up anymore.  Or if I even need to go up.  Maybe just forward is the way I need to move.  Forward, quickly.  Like the lumbering 747 that moves forward so fast, strapped to the ground by gravity.  Gravity.  That twisted force that slams you back to the Earth.  That holds you down.  Keeps you down.  Gravity.  Like sick kids, or a husband who travels all the time, or a blizzard and a broken snow blower, or PMS.  Slams you back to the Earth.

Amazing though, that 747.  When it gets going fast enough it does go up. 

Up.  Yes.  But I'm going to start with forward.  Or maybe, Car-o-lyne, and yes, I'm fine.

Let me tell you about last week in the dressing room of Macy's.  So.  Not.  Fine.

to be continued...