Low Profile

Been keeping to myself, maintaining a low profile this last week, to give the seniors time to get Happy New Year’s hugs and thoughts of my birthday out of their system. 

Even the fact I was running out of food supplies didn’t get me up and out. I just got creative with what was available. Nor did the fact the Mega and Powerball were up there, over $400 million, calling my name, saying I needed to take a chance I might be the one because Granddaughter needs a better car and No. 3 Grandson needs a car period, also didn’t motivate me to get up and out.

What finally did motivate me to get out and make a run on Saturday was running out of a needlepoint floss color. So off I went to the craft store, with a stop by the market for groceries, and a stop to pick up a Powerball ticket, as the Mega was no longer up for grabs, then it was back to hibernating.

Having not made contact with anyone in the complex for days, I’m not sure what the status is of the resident rushed to the hospital with what is thought to be liver damage. Nor do I know what happened to one of the neighbors in my quad.

While watching Project Runway Thursday night, I head sirens and the sound of a truck engine stopping just at the end of my walkway.

Looking out the patio window, I watched as EMTs headed for the upstairs unit, across the quad, to the left, where lives the smoker.

This is a no-smoking community, folks are required to exit the gate and smoke somewhere outside, but folks don’t always follow the rules.

If it was impacting my life, I’d complain; but it’s not. She’s a nice lady, her unit is across the quad, the smoke doesn’t reach my windows, so not my problem.

At any rate, the EMT’s went into her unit and, after a time, neighbor was gently escorted down the stairs with an EMT assisting behind her, an EMT in front of her, and an EMT behind the guy in front of her as a safety precaution should anyone stumble he could block the fall. Every step Neighbor took looked painful for her, but they got her down to the gurney and took her away, at which time I said a prayer for her and went back to Project Runway.

No idea what could have happened, though falling in the unit seems to be the No. 1 cause of injury around here, but won’t know for sure until I come out of hibernation and get with the folks again, which looks like it will be tomorrow – Pizza Tuesday.

I actually wasn’t planning to go, but The Baker posted to our Facebook page that, after pizza delivery, there’s to be a cupcake party for January birthdays.

She’s not fooling me, I’m not stupid, I’m not a Republican. I know her baking cupcakes and arranging for this event is for me. The Seer -- the Baker’s BFF, was unable to ascertain my birthday, so the two of them came up with this workaround.

Last time anyone arranged a celebration for me against my wishes was when I retired from that job where the racist group had tried to run me out of the company because the CEO didn’t want a Black woman in a secretarial position. 

I worked myself through the situation by standing firm in my understanding that the Universe put me there because, as a spiritual student, I was strong enough in my faith to not react as they expected me to react, as the many others they had targeted had reacted (fled, quit), just stand firm and let the Universe fight the battle for me.

Though it was a painful episode, I saw the Universe at work in many things that happened to individuals in the racist group until eventually the worst of the worst retired or moved on to other companies, after which the remaining racists crawled back under their rock and ceased their openly racist behaviors. 

After my work was done, spiritually speaking, the Universe gave me an opportunity to retire. I took it.

Those in authority, including the remaining racists, wanted to arrange a retirement party for me.

I can’t be fake. Can’t eat or socialize with people I don't respect or who've been unkind to me.

Besides, the party was not for me, more like a show they were putting on to make themselves look good.

I did attend a luncheon with a group of work pals, but told the others that I wasn’t going to play that game with them, don’t arrange a party.

They did anyway, arranged for a party at the office -- three days before my retirement date so, staying true to myself, I called in sick that morning.

Of course, they ended up embarrassed, a laughing stock.

Did I care?

No.

Not even when the guy I referred to in posts during those difficult years as "The Weasly Klansman" had the nerves to say to me, when I recovered from my illness and returned to work the day after the party, "You shouldn't have done that".

Seriously? You treat me like crap all these many years and you expect me to help you save face, look like good guys and girls, by playing along with a retirement party organized by you?

This situation with The Baker and The Seer is a different scenario. Their wanting to do something for my birthday is a love offering.

I’m the person who is always there for others, doing for others, accustomed to receiving nothing in return. So unaccustomed to people wanting to do for me that it’s hard to accept when someone does something nice for me.

To repeat myself -- I can’t be fake, I’m a terrible liar, it’s hard for me to pretend but, in this case, I’m going to try my best to  play along -- go down to the Community Room and pretend I'm clueless, didn't know I'd been duped, act like a Republican.