Unshelved by Bill Barnes and Gene Ambaum
comic strip overdue media

Wednesday, April 17, 2002

A note to D--

You know, the more I actually pay attention to the reality of myself, the less I like what I see. I really snowed myself about what a great person I was.

On a related note, I got a verbal warning today regarding my absences. You know how you've said that I wouldn't be able to hold a job anywhere else? Well, I'm pushing the envelope on this one, too.

The good think about seeing the truth is that now that I'm really looking, maybe I can start changing it. As much as I want to curl up into a little ball and make the world go away, I can't. I know that I CAN make myself better, and can get to a point where I'm maybe contributing a little more than I'm taking out of the world. But I'm thinking that I have to start pretty much from square one. THAT'S one of the 'what elses' I have to learn--that I've been living in the negatives, that maybe I'm floating just under zero, and if I want to make it into the positives, I'm going to have to really work at it. That makes regular exercise seem easy by comparison. Exercising my soul is even more important, and I'm beginning to think it's much harder. But I refuse to give up trying.

Thank you for your help. I love you, and I'm so very grateful that you've tried to help me. Please don't give up on me, either, no matter how much I sometimes disappoint you.


I surprised myself today by taking my tendency towards inaction to a fairly despicable level. One of my neighbours told me last week, while I was sick, that he and his wife were breaking their lease and moving back to L.A. because he couldn't find a job here, that no one wanted to hire him, and that they didn't like him. They were leaving, taking just their clothes, and wanted to know if I wanted any of the furniture; I told them no, I didn't have any room for any, but thanked them. They said they couldn't take their year-old border collie, Daisy with them, that they would need to find a home for her, and asked if I knew anyone who could take her, but I didn't.

I told myself that it wasn't any of my business whether they had told the apartment management they were leaving. I would have, even if I were going to break the lease, but it sounded fishy that they weren't taking their furniture. They had said they were going to leave on Sunday, but I actually haven't seen their cars since Friday. I didn't see Daisy at the window, either, but I couldn't be 100% sure that she wasn't there. I told D about it, and he agreed it sounded like they were skipping out. We both thought there may have been some reason they were doing it so quickly. He thought that ethically I should tell the apartment people.

I said I didn't think that they would have just left Daisy, but some people do that with animals, especially cats. That's what worried me.

Five days later, we're talking on the phone, and he asks me if I'd checked on Daisy. "No. She would have barked if she'd been left alone," I'd said. It sounded lame when I did. "But you didn't check?" he asked. "No." "So you don't really know. She could be languishing inside and you decided you weren't going to check, didn't you?" "Well, yes". Utter silence. I asked if he were still there. He said yes but that there was someone screaming outside and he needed to see what was going on, and told me he'd talk to me later and hung up.

I sat there. I hadn't checked. Hadn't wanted to get involved. Surely no one would do that, just leave a dog alone in an abandoned apartment, right? Maybe I was just obsessing on the idea because it was remotely possible. I'd known the couple at least superficially for over a year. I wasn't too sure about him, but I couldn't see her just leaving the dog shut up. But then, I realised she'd probably do whatever he told her to. Just like I had been with my ex. Just like I was being now. And my dog and theirs had played together for a year and I hadn't so much as checked up on the dog, had rationalised it all away, felt no real emotion about it, and still hadn't told anyone they'd said they were leaving.

One of the maintenance men lives next to their apartment. He was grilling out and was talking on the phone. I went over and told them that they'd said they were moving, that I hadn't seen the cars, and that they'd said that Daisy wasn't going with them, and that I was afraid they may have left her shut up. Was there any way he could check? So we went over and went in. No furniture. No clothes. And thankfully, no Daisy. But they did leave her food, collar, and kennel, along with a phone that was still operational and a cable receiver, plus random stuff and a very dirty kitchen. Oh, and a box of shotgun shells. All in all, it could have been worse--it'll take some cleaning but nothing's destroyed. We can't figure out the furniture; neither of us saw it go out. He said it had come from Rent-A-Centre fairly recently. Maybe they took it back. Maybe. In any case, I guess that's the furniture they wanted to give me. Hmmm...

I suppose it all could have been innocent--the guy'd said they couldn't take their furniture with them, and if it were rented that would make sense. But they must not have taken Daisy--they wouldn't have left her stuff--her toys, even her food. Nor would they have given her away without that stuff. She probably went to the pound. Now that I know that, it bothers me, because it would be a shock for her. I think it'd be easy to find a home for her--she'd be great for kids. I certainly couldn't take her; I have four animals already, and Cerys, being sedate, couldn't really deal well with that much energy in another dog. Daisy tended to harrass her when she just wanted to chew grass. But I don't understand why it bothers me now, but I basically dissociated myself so much from the whole thing (I really wish they hadn't told me, and I suppose I acted like they didn't) to such a point that I couldn't really picture her in the apartment.

I'm ashamed. Ashamed that I did it, and ashamed that after all these years I'm still doing it. I thought I'd gotten past the living in a fantasy world to escape an unhappy homelife. It seems the more I dig and try to get better, the more I find that's rotten to begin with. I used to think that I was basically a decent person who just had trouble coping with life. Now I'm not so sure. But while I can't change my past choices, I can still work to do better in the future. I guess that's all anyone can do.

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