Octopus of Bliss

To summarize my day in one sentence, I spend much longer on the phone than I did sleeping. And you know that's bad, even though I only slept for slightly less than five hours. I had two or three phone calls with Queenie (those were the good ones); one long and disturbing phone call with the Duchess; two or three calls from Mr. Science; plus all the innumerable emails and the texting. I have been yelled at, cried at, lectured about both things I already know and things they know that just ain't so. I have spent literally hours being the voice of reason and trying to calm people down. I'm beginning to think that being the voice of reason is its own form of crazy, but at least it's a less unpleasant form of crazy than the kind that makes people have dramatic outbursts.

The bottom line is that Mother has been disenrolled from hospice. So now she's back on general care. I'm not even going to try to explain how that came about. I am profoundly discouraged.

I turned off my phone to go to the movies. We saw the Tolkien biopic, and enjoyed it. It's not informative--more of an Impressionist version, with bold brushstrokes and a lot of chiaroscuro. It's beautifully filmed and stars Nicholas Hoult. He's too tall to be JRRT for real, but he was great in the role. I love his expressive, slightly crooked face. There's a little too much Battle of the Somme for me, but I imagine those who were there thought the same. It was inexpressibly poignant and sad so maybe not the ideal film for tonight. But it certainly was a nice break from the torture of phone calls from people who are acting out their childhood wounding on fast forward. Also I looked out in the back yard and I think some of my peas are coming up. That's all I got . . . .