Tabatha Deans

Bringing Integrity to the Written Word

NO GOOD DEED GOES UNPUNISHED
With my new found sympathy for seniors and homeless, I was feeling quite full of myself when I came upon an elderly lady while I was walking home from downtown. She was frail and walking with a cane, and was dragging a rolling suitcase behind her. She had stopped midway down the hill she was walking, and had leaning on the wall trying to catch her breath. I saw my chance to help and took it.
“Are you all right?” I asked her.
“No, no I’m not all right. But I have to get groceries, nobody’s gonna help an old lady, I have to go all the way to the grocery store and then take these home again.” She responded, kind of in a nasty tone.
Undeterred, I listened to her rant for a minute or two, then asked if there was anything I could do to help her. That question didn’t sit well with her.
“What are you going to do? Carry me?!” she yelled at me, shaking her cane at me.
Well, what could I do? I couldn’t carry her. I thought about walking with her and pulling her suitcase full of groceries but that wouldn’t really be much of a help. So, red-faced and thoroughly scolded, I wished her the best of luck and went along my way, reminded that no matter how unfair life is, sometimes there’s not a damn thing we can do about it…

MONOTONY SETS IN
It’s been a rather boring weekend here in the city. I attended my second CERT training class, it provided a little excitement as we went through mock disaster drills. I was blown up, attacked by a gunman, involved in a bus accident, and tragically, died before my fellow volunteers saved me. But they fed me a good lunch of fajitas and cookies, so that soothed my disappointment.
I returned to the 300 SF I call home, after a long, rainy bus ride. I’ve been sending my resume and a letter of intro to all the newspapers in town, and finished up my first article for a national magazine. (Which on paper is awesome, in payment amount, not so much.) So I found myself inside, on a rainy day with nothing to do. Actually I have two manuscripts I could have worked on, but it was the weekend afterall.
So I puttered about my apartment, straightening the teapot and dishes, sweeping the floor, dusting the two tables I own. I have a small television and VCR Tim and Mona lent me, but I’ve watched every movie I own three times already, and the public library no longer carries VHS tapes. So I sat. And I drank tea. And I looked around my apartment. And I straightened the rug in front of the door, experimented by putting it in front of the futon, then moved it back again. And I sat some more.
I tried to surf the internet, but the rain makes the connection unstable so I just became frustrated and gave up. It was too late to nap, so I went down to the corner and picked up a copy of all the free magazines, which I’d already read, but took them home and poured over them looking for upcoming events, which I recorded in my small calendar book that I got from Cindo de Mayo.
Here I was in a city full of wonderful things, and I was bored. I guess that’s how you really know someplace if your home. When the newness has worn off and you find yourself staring at the four walls surrounding you. And you get bored.

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May 16, 2011 - Posted by | Uncategorized

1 Comment »

  1. Maybe you should plan a visit home then!

    Comment by marci | May 17, 2011 | Reply


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