katman-don't

addendum: the murderer was in pennsylvania, at an "LA Fitness" health club, not in california (where LA is located), as previously reported. i apologize for the fucking error.
that onus has been bothering me for several days, anal-retentive that i am. this is my first chance to amend it. i am sure i am the only one who cares.
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i started on my new schedule this week. the economy is not significantly better, but three people have left ACCES and we have all returned to FT hours to absorb their shifts. i work 3 13hr shifts now, which i requested... it's fine at the time but today, watching the demo for craniosacral holds, i nodded off on the sofa at school. monday is a long day. i have class 1-5p and clinic 6-10p. 3 shots of espresso helped. now i am inconveniently wired. this tends to be my pattern.
i noticed a few weeks ago that i am finally fucking confident. i give a really good massage. i actually know how to 'ground' and 'be present' and quell the dithering nattery in my brain. i have spent the prior year demurely declining giving people massages when they find out i'm in school- because i've been scared shitless. no more. today i gave three massages- one craniosacral, one a 'relaxation' massage, one with focus on the back and subscaps with more cranio thrown in. i made three different individuals almost or completely pass out. it rained during tonight's clinic; the city smells like wet dust. as i walked out of school, sidestepping puddles, i thought "fuck, i can actually do this." it's a really good, really unexpected feeling.
i am so glad i have this life.
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yesterday a woman brought her cat to my work. she'd been missing for a week and reappeared on her porch. "i bathed her but she still smells really bad" the woman said. i took her to the ICU, unwrapped her from her towel, and a torrent of huge maggots spurted out of a necrotic wound on her hip. i really don't mind maggots- they are fascinating in their industry!- but i dislike being surprised by them. the doctor was dry-heaving while doing her exam. maggots skittered out of the wound and into the cat's anus, out of the anus and into the cat's vagina. and the cat, seemingly numb to the nightmarishness occuring in her own body, was purring the entire time.
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the owner, who turned out to be a (human) physician, was oblivious to the maggotry until the doctor told her. she was horrified and apologized repeatedly to us "for bringing in the most disgusting animal of the night."
the cat's name is sophie.
and maggots do not drown when thrown in water. they must be squashed to die.
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a conversation ensued among my coworkers as to what maggot infestation must feel like. "i suspect it's a ticklish sensation" i said, scratching the cat's head through a latex glove.
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i washed my hands a lot last night.
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the depeche mode concert should be letting out soon. they're playing at the fucking key arena, two blocks away. the patrons at the bar are loudly disbaraging the band "and the douches who went." i have no desire to ever see depeche mode, but i wore the 'violator' album out in 1996. i was working at a coffee house in anchorage and closed the place by myself. it was my cleaning-up album (occasionally changed out with sinead o'connor's 'i do not want what i haven't got' and 'jimi hendrix greatest hits'). depeche mode reminds me of espresso grounds and the smell of windex. it was a happy era for me, and that means a lot.
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i love the people i know.