I'VE BEEN SHOWERED WITH GIFTS BUT I DON'T KNOW WHY

This morning, before I was completely awake, two women who I used to work with visited and gave me a card signed by about a million people, two gift certificates to my favorite area restaurant, and money. This was in addition to a swimming watch that came before that I love. I was and am overwhelmed. Shocked. I have to send another card thanking them. I used to hate to go there. Get up early--ugh--I especially hated that. I just didn't want to go. I didn't want to dress up, didn't want to see people, didn't want to be businessy. I never made it to businessy. And I didn't care about the work projects at all. They were total bullshit and always seemed to end up in the trash can after threats and deadlines that were endlessly extended. I did enjoy my little private cubicle, listening to my music, reading the New York Times, drinking interesting coffees and buying meals that tickled my fancy. I surrounded myself with old rejected paintings that still made me feel at home, even though I never felt at home and wished every minute that I could walk out of there forever. I wasn't always aware I felt that way. I was often co-opted by the food, relaxation, good conversations, shopping--oh! I loved the shopping!, and long telephone conversations. I thought some of the bosses had evil spirits emanating from them, and others were horribly sad screwed up creatures. I used to literally duck back into doorways to avoid them, or pretend they weren't there. And this was the best job I ever had. Previously, I worked with psychos and people who would happily send innocent people into life under a cardboard box in a diaper. Happily, mind you.
Well, today I worked on my Lupus part of my website that the radio interviewer rated as not as good as many or some other artists. I think he was giving me a zetz for being number one Philadelphia Artist on Google. Since he used only my saying how much I didn't like the gallery system, I suspect my ideas rankled him. I'm satisfied that I'm comfortable with my view of life and it works for me. Getting there took about fifty years, so it wasn't easy, and I'm glad to be here. And especially to be "retired", going to bed at--the clock here says 12:42 AM--and waking whenever I feel like getting out of bed.
I've escaped from the supervisors, administrators, coordinators, and consultants. I never did cozy up with them and they were usually uneasy with me. I was a traitor in their midst. A hippie not well disguised. I try to seek "the truth" and find my own way and that feels right for me. To each his own, but I really wish people would look under the goop we're fed. Too many people die and there's so much unnecessary suffering in the world. Yeah, it's all connected. To me, all that crap about administrators and striving is closely followed by votes for people like George Bush Jr. or whatever he is. Without thought and looking for reality, we march into blind hatred and war.