Just Listening

Sometimes I just listen to the quiet. Listening to just under the quiet to all the little sounds that make the hum of background. I break them up, separate them until I hear everything.

Traffic from the main road. If no one is honking, I close my eyes and pretend it's the ocean.
A neighbor is sawing? Raking? Something yardy.
Birds are singing. Lovely calls to one another creating layers of song.
The bubbles in my soda water burst against the sides of the can. A soft, crackly ping.
Traffic is the loudest. The most varied in levels of sound. Motorcycle noises because it's a nice day.
Refrigerator humming, ice machine groaning, laptop breathing softly.


The Fella's chair creaks from downstairs.

I see the wind first. Staring out the dining room window the neighbor's evergreen waves to me. Then I hear it. Sounds like the cars at first and then it builds and I can tell...Those are my trees roaring quietly.

My wind chimes join in. The wooden one from the beach is barely hanging on but I can hear it. Sounds like the docks from when I was a kid.  The tiny chime from a friend a long time ago.  And then the wind dies.

A crow starts screaming. It's caw mingles with a helicopter. A military bird. For a moment the world sounds angry. A dog barks one time. The chop chop chop fades into the city and the crow quiets. The other birds sing again.

Another dog bark. It's the dachshund two doors down and I can instantly picture the little shit strutting down the middle of the street like he owns it. Makes me nervous when he does that.

The yardy guy has started using a weed eater. whirrrrrr whirrrrrr-rrrrrr-rrrrr whirrrrr-rr  Sounds of summer in April. I can't tell where it's coming from-sounds like everywhere. He must be close by. It's not entirely unpleasant but it's louder than the quiet from before.

The Fella's glasses being set on the desk. Water running, splashing in the sink. He yawns--loud like a child and then I hear him come up the stairs. His feet on the carpet, slippers scuffling. He touches my back on the way to the kitchen. I hear him toss ice into a glass. The pop fizz from a can of soda, liquid being poured and then the hollow clink as the can is set down onto the counter. A pause and then his feet move towards the doorway. He must have picked the can up because he's crushing it now and then tossing it into the bin.

I am listening to him. I know exactly what the sound is from, yet I jump.

"Will it bother you if I watch television?"

I smile, "Nope. I'm almost done."

He touches my back again as he passes behind me.

Leslie Knope starts squeaking.

Sometimes I just listen to the sound of home. Listening to just under the hum of background to all the little sounds that make it home.

Big Girl Brain

My back hurts. 

That's the first thing I notice when I wake up. I swallow and my throat is dry, scratchy. I've slept with my mouth open and probably snored. Loudly. The kind of snoring I should probably have a mask for but I tried and I just can't wear it. I know it's supposed to help me breathe but I only feel like I'm suffocating.

The clock says I should get up soon but I like laying there listening to morning sounds. Outside the birds are waking up in the cool spring morning and I can hear the Fella downstairs futzing about. The bedroom door is open but the kittens haven't realized it yet so for the moment I can stretch my legs and wiggle my toes without the fear of attack.

I hear the Fella come upstairs for his shower and that means I have about 45 minutes before I have to leave. I snuggle down in the covers and close my eyes. Just a little longer.

My back still hurts.  I take a deep breath and literally pull myself out of bed. My body creaks with the bed frame and I sigh. You should lose weight.You'd sleep better and your back wouldn't hurt and you wouldn't have sleep apnea and have anxiety that you'll die in your sleep. It's because your fat that your back hurts.  

I take my time in the morning but still leave with plenty of time to stop and get a Starbucks before heading into the office. It's not my favorite barista working the window but she's nice.  I order my usual and then before I even realize I've done it, I order a blueberry muffin too. "Oh, you're having a muffin today huh?" Why? Do you think I'm too fat to have a muffin? I probably am. Maybe I shouldn't. You're probably already judging me because my drink is made with cream instead of milk. As soon as I get up to the window you'll see how fat I am. How much I don't need that muffin but you'll give it to me anyway because it's your job but once I'm out of earshot you'll giggle with your coworkers about how big I am. 

The smell of the warm blueberries meets my nose and I realize I'm not even hungry. I sing along to the radio. It's Friday.

I'm five minutes late for my first meeting. He chose the table that has the uncomfortable chairs. I make a joke as I sit down. Did he notice that I don't really fit in this chair? Can he see my belly peeking out from under my shirt? I can't have my skin showing. That's gross. Does he notice the arms of the chair digging into my thighs? He can't see the bruises that are there from before can he? From other chairs in other places? 

Coffee break. Regular black with cream from the table this time. I forget to push the plunger and joke it away, "Helps if you open it, ha ha." There's a guy in the line watching me as a rush of cream spills into the cup. "Or you could just take it all ha ha, " and he walks away. I shouldn't have cream. He thinks I'm too fat to have cream in my coffee. He meant I would take all of it because I'm fat and that's what fat people do, don't they? 

Another meeting and now I'm late for lunch. Still not hungry but I'm supposed to be so I take my 30 minutes. Eating with a friend, laughing about The Humpty Dance. She's watching me eat. She probably thinks I'm so gross for eating. It must be disgusting to watch me eat.

The day continues, then ends and before home-- a quick errand. I'm tired. I don't want to be in the car anymore. I want to be on my couch. That person in the car next to you at the stoplight thinks your fat. The girl in the grocery store does too. The guy you passed on the way in moved out of your way because you're bigger than he is. You're bigger than most guys. 

A good song comes on and I start to move with it. I tap the steering wheel, and for just a split second I forget everything else. The car is shaking with your weight. People in cars that are in nearby lanes will look over because your car is bouncing. Because you're fat. 

I pull into the garage and sit for a moment. I let another song play, trying to find the feeling I had only minutes ago. It's gone and I turn off the engine. I take a deep breath and literally pull myself from the car. "Pretty soon you'll have to roll me into the car." I said that in my sleep one night and the Fella reluctantly told me next morning. I never forgot what I already knew.   

Dinner is on it's way. Take out again because it's just easier that way. If you ate better, or even ordered better from the menu...I eat the food quickly. I don't remember if I was hungry or not. I eat ice cream because it's there and watch tv because it's on.

Bed time comes around and I push my way off the couch to lay down on the bed instead. My back hurts. It's the last thing I think before I go to sleep. You should lose weight.You'd move better and your back wouldn't hurt and you wouldn't have to make such an effort to get around and have anxiety that you're going to die of all the things your mother died of. Because you're fat. 

The other day, a friend said," You're not fat. You have fat." I rolled my eyes and she noticed. "I know, I know but listen... You have toenails. You're not a fucking toenail."

I want to try and believe that. Toenails are gross.