|La Brea and Melrose, Los Angeles|
On the way to my 17th IEP this morning, my eyes leaked tears and I swore to myself as I wiped them away. I won't bore you with the litany of complaints that preceded the tears, many of which are valid and most of which are pathetic, but at La Brea and Melrose, I got into the left turn lane behind a long line of cars and asked for help -- not from God, per se, although I still have vestiges of duty toward that possibility, but rather from the air, the universe, the divine, the whatever. I turned my head to my left and saw what you see above, felt an enormous slap upside the head as they say in the south. Yes, I took that photo while sitting in my car, my head smarting from the force of the blow, waiting through a few red lights, inching along, stripped of impatience, anger, sorrow and panic. Even tears, or tears, even.
That's all I've got for today. The IEP went just fine. When I came home, I lay down on my bed, closed my eyes, thought of other things.