What am I doing here? My eyes sweep the huge empty room assigned to me – more space than I have ever owned on land. Technically, it’s the Olympus Administration Building (or the OAB), my new home away from Atlantis. On the thirteenth floor, I can do whatever I choose with it. I decide one section will be living quarters and another area will hold offices supporting my new business, Find a Porpoise, a non-profit helping injured sea animals, promoting restoration efforts, and protecting endangered species. The floor will also house an HQ for a dark ops portion, focusing on poachers and pirating to combat the thriving black market dealing in oceanic treasure and faux medicinal potions for health and restoration.
I won’t be able to do it alone and will need to hire assistants. It seems a momentous and overwhelming task. I don’t know where to begin. There isn’t even a laptop to start ordering supplies or researching what I might need. With no chairs to sit in, I slump against a wall.
I don’t want to bother Poseidon, and I need to do this on my own, even if just to prove a point. I feel a strange unease bubbling in my chest. The emotion is a constant and unwelcome presence since being kidnapped and trapped in ice by the Lamia: anxiety. I’m not good enough to accomplish this, I think. I can’t do it. I sit in silence, frozen, indecision flooding my mind. I go to that comforting place where I can deaden the deluge of my concerns. Eyes dry, mind screaming, I force myself to quieten and drift off in a waking stasis until I can deal with my situation again.
Unsure of the passage of hours, I finally stand and leave the building. I begin procuring items I need to furnish an office and the birth of my living quarters. I’ve always fancied a carved wood canopy bed, so I purchase a French Rococo style king size, along with matching dresser, mirror, wardrobe, chaise lounge, and two chairs and tables. I also add a couple huge bookshelves to begin building a library.
I hit several clothing stores and begin to calm down. Perhaps I am capable of creating something in this world after all. Hours later, I crack open a bottle of wine, pour a glass full to the brim, and sit on one of my new chairs to relax (thank gods for same-day delivery service). I need time to unwind, I realize. It is distressingly easy for me to experience unease in this mortal world. Everything moves so fast, and the sea folk live a vastly different life. It will take serious adjusting. My time thousands of years ago posing as human was much more leisurely. Even when life was fragile and violent, the pace was more relaxed.
I also feel isolated and alone because my connection to these deities seems frail. I am tied to Olympian brothers and sisters, sons and daughters, through Poseidon. I belong here only because of marriage (or however our timeless relationship is classified). I have no blood relation to any of these powerful beings. They interact so freely, even while arguing, and I often feel alienated while observing their conversations.
I long to belong and join their family, even if it’s a playfully dysfunctional one, but eons have roared by, leaving me displaced. The memories of my siblings is so faint, I cannot recall but a few of their names or where they are now. I forget what it is like, and I mourn. Even Atlantis has not been home because of my abduction. I know processing that experience is imminent, and I likely suffer from what mortals call Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). How could I not, at least to some degree?
By the end of the day, I have a furnished office that is stocked and wired (and wireless – modern mortal technology is quite fabulous, I’m discovering). I play online, buying music and movies – and books to download on my new e-book reader. I discover how sexy and fun some actors are (Jason Momoa in Aquaman and Alexander Skarsgard as the vampire Eric Northman) and that Thor is my favorite Avenger.
Thankfully, I bought an MP3 player. I buy several digital albums online and transfer them to my player, put in earbuds, and lay down in my luscious new bed, enjoying the music. Mortals are incredibly talented when it comes to creating music and singing (I consider myself to be a superior judge in this category with my background.).
I lay in bed alone and finally allow the tears to fall.
When I wake, I decide I need a companion. Mortals keep domesticated animals, and I want one. I dress in a tight black blouse that shows off my cleavage, boot cut jeans, and slip on a pair of Chuck Taylors – all items I picked up the day before. I tie my hair up in a messy bun, smear on some lip gloss, and head to the local animal shelter. But not before I stop by a pet store to pick up some supplies.
I’ve never made a decision like this. I walk in and proceed to the dog section, and they call out to me, pleading in their barking communication to pick me, pick me! My eyes burn with tears. They want out, and I can’t care for them all. How is there a world where these precious creatures end up homeless? Thankfully, it is a No Kill shelter. Why aren’t they all, I ask myself?
Then I see her, what humans call a mutt, with blue eyes and chocolate coloring. The employee tells me she is labrador and husky and maybe a bit of something else like German shepherd or collie. She is two years old, and her previous owner couldn’t afford to take care of her after they lost their job. I fill out the paperwork, am interviewed, and suddenly, she is mine! Or am I hers?
I can’t speak to her the way I do with aquatic animals, but we seem to understand each other well enough. I’m thankful for her company. Back in our new home, my energy level is still low and my mood poor, so I call her up on the bed with me and we take a nap.
I snuggle with my new canine friend in bed all day, eating candy and chocolate, and cheese pizza that is delivered straight to the room! Engaging in what humans refer to as self-care and me-time is incredibly healing. I make some to-do lists and start a gratitude journal:
I am grateful for:
1) Being rescued and reconciling with my love (where is he anyway?)
2) My beautiful new pup
3) Discovering delicious foods like chocolate and pizza
I think everything is going to be okay. All I can do is try and keep trying. I’ll eventually figure out where I fit. I just have to open up and make an effort to connect with the mysterious and intimidating figures I suddenly belong with. But first things first. I reach for my new phone and try to figure out how to contact Poseidon. I wrote his number down somewhere…
My mind spinning with ideas, I start to plan one of these events mortals call a date. He’ll go along with it, but he won’t appreciate the clothing he’ll have to wear. All the more fun to peel it off later, I’ll tell him. I giggle and scratch Seabiscuit on the head. She barks at me. Seabiscuit. Perfect name! Now who am I going to get to dogsit? I think I’ll give Urania a call. She seems like a kind soul…
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