Sunday Volunteering

Yesterday’s volunteer shift was kinda cool, for the most part. I was a mess all weekend, as far as staying on top of my meds/vitamins and getting, like, sleep. So I wasn’t sure how long I’d be able to stay, but I made it pretty much as long a shift as usual.

I feel like I physically did less, but I did spend a lot of time bonding with animals, so I figure that counts. For me, anyway!

The other Sunday volunteer, Shanny, and I were talking after about how it’s become like therapy to both of us now. Even though we only go once a week for a few hours, the animals are getting to know us better, and that makes a huge difference. We spent time near the end of our shift just walking around visiting our favourites and left smiling. Willow the capybara didn’t tackle me this time, but she did drool all over my forearm and attempt to rub my tattoo off again! haha

I started my shift off in the skunk enclosure, of course. This time all but two were out at shows, but even though the most skittish were left, they were both at the door to greet me when I went in. They’re still skittish, naturally, but I feel like we all did really well together. I let them smell my hands this time, but managed to resist the urge to try and pet them. It’s not the right time for that just yet.

While I was in there, I got summoned back down to the main floor because Cricket, the baby kangaroo was being passed around so we could meet her! I cradled her in my arms and she licked me and we took a boatload of pictures and then she hopped around the shelter for a few minutes before we put her back in her pouch for a nap. She didn’t want to go in, at first, because she was super curious about all the new stuff she could check out, but within minutes she was asleep again. So super cute, guys!

I finished the skunk enclosure, and then took on the Small Animal Room. I took my time with everybody – except the sugar gliders, because they all sleep during the day – and made sure they were all comfy and fed and watered and spot cleaned. I snuggled one of the rats, and held one of the ferrets (Hamburglar) for the first time. I did a couple of extra good things when I noticed they needed to be done. I find the routine is getting easier (ie more of a routine) and our little team works really well together, so we’re getting things done pretty quickly now. Which is even more awesome because it gives us time to cuddle a baby kangaroo, or spend a few extra minutes letting skunks get to know us better, or talking to birds and watching Rapunzel ring her bell because she’s happy for the extra attention. Being more effective at the labour part gives us more time for the fun part, which is always a good thing. Everyone is getting more comfortable, I think, and for me, that makes me more determined to get in there each week. I’m still technically week to week, but I’ve been feeling a shift towards anticipating that I will be there next Sunday before I even leave from this Sunday’s shift.

Sensing that some of the animals are getting more familiar with me, and recognizing me more each week gives me hope that Hudson will be able to “know” me sooner or later, as well. I’ve only seen him twice so far, but I already have plans to see him this week, too, which would make it three weeks in a row. Even if I go back to every other week like when he was a wee cub, there’s still a good chance that I’ll be more familiar to him after a time, and that possibility makes me smile, too!

Resenting Reality

I have these notions in my head of what home is to me, and friendship, and good relationships. Among other things. Just ideas as to what I look for in my journey through life.

I keep getting glimpses of them – enough to make me think my sense of things could be possible for me, rather than something I just got from television while growing up – but my inability to manifest any of them in reality is frustrating, and causes me to doubt those possibilities, after all.

I’m torn now between wondering if I should settle for something more viable in my real life, rather than struggling for the notion, and ultimately being disappointed when it’s not how I think it should be. How I want it to be.

Do I strive to create the home I desire? Or the friendship I long for? Or the relationship I envision? Or do I accept each for whatever it already is, and if I fit into it at all, be grateful for that much. But if not, move on until I fit somewhere else better?

I’m so angry at myself for so many things, but I’m not sure how many of them I can change – how much -I- can change, since none of us has control over anything but ourselves at most, anyway. There’s nothing wrong with striving to be better, to be constantly learning and growing and evolving. There’s nothing wrong with not fitting anywhere. It can be lonely sometimes, of course, but not as much as being surrounded by vague or non-connections entirely. Lonely in a crowd. My inability to open up, or my disinterest in doing so minus with a few select people?

I don’t know.

I need to learn to speak better, especially in front of a camera.

Can a private vlog be far behind?

Carrying Things

I’m one of those people who can usually be found carrying around a lot of things. Physically and, like, emotionally, too, I guess, but I was thinking more about the physical stuff I drag around with me every day. I’m not sure how long it’s been going on, nor when I turned it into part of my conscious decision-making process, but I often will dream about packing quickly while trying to leave wherever I am, and having a hard time remembering to bring everything I might need.

I’d rather have it and not need it, than need it and not have it.

Which has resulted in my having a lot that I don’t need.

I think I’ve pretty much always had a plan in my head; the “what would I do if” sort of running through possible scenarios over and over. A zombie escape plan, sure, but so much more than that, too. Knowing that I can’t prepare for any and every possibility doesn’t really stop me from trying, though. I’ve spent the majority of my life watching, trying to anticipate what might happen next.

That I’m generally wrong doesn’t stop me from trying, either.

I’d rather have it and not need it than need it and not have it.

That I probably wouldn’t even survive half of the things I come up with doesn’t stop me from trying, either, actually.

In that vein, I also carry around some guilt and indecision as to how I imagine I would spend my last days, if I knew they were numbered. I mean, they are numbered for all of us, of course, but if I knew the number that was left, I like to think I would do things differently from how I do things now. I have ideas as to those I would want to spend that last bit of time with, and of the things I would like to spend that time doing. Those ideas don’t mesh with reality, and they certainly don’t mesh with what’s expected of me. I’m always torn between those things – what I want versus what others want for me, and/or expect from me. I go back and forth between what I think I would choose to do. If it was just my days which were numbered, I think I would probably do what was expected or needed by those I’d be leaving behind. They are the ones who would have to live with my choices after I’m gone.

If it was an apocalyptic thing and we were pretty much all doomed, then maybe I would finally decide to do as much of what I want, with those I want to do it with, as possible. Maybe I would finally take care of my own needs, knowing that it was unlikely that any of us would have to live with my choices for very long after I make them. The sad thing is, those on my wishlist don’t really have me on theirs – or wouldn’t, in the event of apocalypse times. So it’s quite likely that, even if I tried to do things for me, I wouldn’t really be able to pull them off the way I’d want to, if at all. There’d still be an imbalance, only I would be the one making hopeful requests of those who’d rather be elsewhere. And for me there’s no balance in that, either.

I think I’d rather be the one who sacrifices what they most want than be the one someone else has to turn down in order to be where they most want. Or worse, be the one someone else sacrifices what they really want in order to give in to my needs. Not sure even the imminent end of times could assuage that level of guilt! Haha

Here’s the thing, though. None of us will live forever. Every day is one day closer to our own personal end. Yet so many of us are not living our lives in ways which fulfil us.

Maybe it’s time I start finding the balance between what I want and what is requested of me from others, and make my life more my own.

Maybe if I can do that, I’ll find it easier to dream-pack someday.