Don't let the clowns scare you, as they seem to do for many these days. I have a good friend of about forty years and in my scribblings I just call him Jess B Rambling in the present tense and Jess Ben Rambling in past tense.
I never know of his where a bouts...he just shows up from time to time. I like it that way. Long periods with Jess makes me question many things about my self and requires way to many days of recovering after his visits. One of his favorite lines is "get down get back up again." The getting back up again is always a problem with Jess around.
Well , Jess informed me he may be showing up in the next few days. I'm trying hard to get my game face on in preparation. Trying to grin more and see what that feels like. The visual of Jess and me happens to be this picture of two clowns pondering life's meaning as they peer out to sea. He always tells me some cock a mania story and I always relate a once upon a time story to him. Sometimes he believes me, sometimes not...this is a once upon a time story I told him on his last visit...I think he believed this one...by the way, Jess is the one caring the suit case...:)
Jess, did I tell you about the time I played bingo...?
I don't like playing Bingo in a psych ward setting. Since it's a game that involves no skill but sheer luck, and since I tend not to win very often, it can be damaging to my sense of self-worth, when I'm already so fragile that I'm in a psych ward, for Pete's sake.
I get to thinking that not even luck is on my side. The staff starts cheerleading, creating a sense of competitiveness that need not exist: "Come on, men, get going, the ladies are winning too many!!" As if anything can be done to change that.
The token prizes aren't worth much, the same handful of people win repeatedly, because that's the way luck is, and then staff starts imposing a pity rule: "OK, after you win four times you have to give your next prize to somebody who hasn't won yet." Hey, it may be a nothing prize, but if I didn't win it myself, I don't want it!
Still, they really like for you to participate in those things, so I agreed to be the caller. I started making jokes about the numbers I called out. "B9. As in, the tumor was not malignant, but B9." (That got a big laugh out of the nurses.) "B4. As in, stop in the naaame of looove, beee-fore you breeeeak my heaaaart...." It earned me the participation points without actually having to play the stupid game..
Just a story I made up. Never been a patient, but maybe I should be?
Footnote: Since this scribbling, Jess showed up and departed...like I said, I am questioning many things about myself...:) Where he comes from nobody knows,
Or where he goes to, but on he goes!...
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