My big plans to use last week to get myself and my house organized? Pftz. I chose instead to spend my newly free evenings to read blogs. I love reading blogs! I love catching a glimpse into the lives of others, and all the possibilities to make new friends.
This week, I'm back on track. I finally got my kitchen cleaned last night, after arriving home from a weekend away to discover an army of ants had attacked our trash can. (But really, who could blame them, what with the leftover birthday cake and dreaded orange popsicle juice lining the bottom. Argh.) And I'm considering an illicit love affair with Mr. Clean, as his Magic Erasers are like lovesilk in my hands. Seriously. There were so many smudges, scratches and smears on my cream walls you'd have thought we had weekly pudding wrestling matches. But now? They're goonnneee, thanks to the fabulous Mr. Clean. I walked in the front door today at lunch and almost sank to my knees and sobbed in clean-entry joy.
Steve has to work a bit later this evening, so I'm going to take advantage of the alone time and (no, not that!) do some more organizing and cleaning. I've been kind of stressed and bummed out lately (as if you couldn't tell), and I find that these types of activities tend to calm me down and make me feel better. Maybe it's the sense of accomplishment they provide. Maybe I'm just OCD. Whatever the case, I'm a happy girl when my environment is clean and put-together.
I'm looking forward to the weekend, as Steve and I will be heading up to Ohio again (different city, thank God) to attend my family reunion. It's my mom's side of the fam, and they're all really fun, great people. We don't live that far away, but it's been a really long time since I've seen any of them. Then, next weekend, we're heading back to Elkins to attend the first birthday party of my good friend Erin's daughter, Emma. I'm excited about that, too, as I've only seen Emma once in her short little life. :( I have received tons of pictures, though, and she is one heck of a cutie pie.
Must run. There is work to be done!
Monday, July 30, 2007
Sunday, July 29, 2007
Be Careful What You Wish For ...
What a draining couple of days I've had.
Friday was complete madness at work. Mad. Ness. We were on lockdown most of the day until we sold enough advertising to appease the powers that be. Lockdown. Can you believe that? We weren't allowed to leave our desks until a specific amount was reached. I just started my fifth year with this particular company, and I've worked in a variety of positions at three locations. None of them have had a lasting positive impression on me (though, surprisingly, the first location was hands down the lesser of these three evils. Whodathunkit?). They invest nothing (money, time or effort) in their facilities, their equipment or their employees. I honestly believed I was making the right decision in accepting this latest job, but the second thoughts are practically tormenting me. Little devils that have infiltrated my brain ... or what's left of it. Job hunting has begun ... again. Sigh.
On Saturday we attended a Jeep "gathering" in northeastern Ohio. I won't say which city we were near, but let me tell you what ... it was a DUMP. Dark, dirty and just plain ole ugly. The Jeep thing was fun; I watched my first-ever mud bog. We met up with Steve's brother and his family late in the afternoon and walked around oohing and ahhing over various bumpers, winches, suspensions, lift kits. Well, they oohed and ahhed (and took pictures). I just stared at stuff and tried to pretend like I knew what it was. That's kind of my gig these days ... stare and pretend. Stare and pretend.
Steve's nephews were pretty excited about the whole thing, which was fun to see. Jacob got to ride on "Sergeant Smash," a giant passenger monster truck. This morning at breakfast, Garrett kept saying "Monster trucks, Jenny! Monster trucks!" I love those little guys. Jacob also said to Steve: "Hey! Where are all your kids?" I'm glad he remembers that he has cousins, as no one else bothers to acknowledge their existence.
All in all, the weekend *was* fun. We stayed in a really pretty suite, had a really nice dinner and a few drinks afterward at the hotel's bar. It was nice spending some quality time with Steve-o, as that had been lacking in recent months.
On the car ride up (and back, to an extent), I kept wondering about what the future really has in store for me. I've been in somewhat of a funk these last few months ... just being really uncertain about my life. I get scared a lot, as things just don't seem to be working out as I had hoped they would. It's no secret that I'm struggling financially, and work ... well, there is definite room for improvement. Most days I want to curl into a ball and either just sleep or cry. It's almost as if I'm being tested ... by God and the people around me. I asked God Friday morning for a calm, peaceful and successful day ... and in turn got "lockdown," an issue with an ad that didn't run, and a late notice on a bill whose payment was mailed well enough in advance. How's that for a really crappy practical joke?
All of this feels very foreign to me. I've done all the "good girl" things ... I've followed the list of expectations to the letter. High school? Check. College? Check. Honors student? Check. Working girl? Check. Kind to others? Check. Giver of second, third and fourth chances? Check, check and check. Putter-upper of shit belonging to and caused by other people? Yup ... check. Where the hell is this karma I've been hearing so much about?
I didn't start this blog to just air my complaints. This is really what's going on in my life right now. I'm working through it the best I can ... just trying to take one day at a time and, as previously noted on this blog, calm the eff down.
So right now, I'm going upstairs, climbing into bed and plugging along through my copy of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. If nothing else, perhaps I'll learn a spell on how to change all of this craziness.
Friday was complete madness at work. Mad. Ness. We were on lockdown most of the day until we sold enough advertising to appease the powers that be. Lockdown. Can you believe that? We weren't allowed to leave our desks until a specific amount was reached. I just started my fifth year with this particular company, and I've worked in a variety of positions at three locations. None of them have had a lasting positive impression on me (though, surprisingly, the first location was hands down the lesser of these three evils. Whodathunkit?). They invest nothing (money, time or effort) in their facilities, their equipment or their employees. I honestly believed I was making the right decision in accepting this latest job, but the second thoughts are practically tormenting me. Little devils that have infiltrated my brain ... or what's left of it. Job hunting has begun ... again. Sigh.
On Saturday we attended a Jeep "gathering" in northeastern Ohio. I won't say which city we were near, but let me tell you what ... it was a DUMP. Dark, dirty and just plain ole ugly. The Jeep thing was fun; I watched my first-ever mud bog. We met up with Steve's brother and his family late in the afternoon and walked around oohing and ahhing over various bumpers, winches, suspensions, lift kits. Well, they oohed and ahhed (and took pictures). I just stared at stuff and tried to pretend like I knew what it was. That's kind of my gig these days ... stare and pretend. Stare and pretend.
Steve's nephews were pretty excited about the whole thing, which was fun to see. Jacob got to ride on "Sergeant Smash," a giant passenger monster truck. This morning at breakfast, Garrett kept saying "Monster trucks, Jenny! Monster trucks!" I love those little guys. Jacob also said to Steve: "Hey! Where are all your kids?" I'm glad he remembers that he has cousins, as no one else bothers to acknowledge their existence.
All in all, the weekend *was* fun. We stayed in a really pretty suite, had a really nice dinner and a few drinks afterward at the hotel's bar. It was nice spending some quality time with Steve-o, as that had been lacking in recent months.
On the car ride up (and back, to an extent), I kept wondering about what the future really has in store for me. I've been in somewhat of a funk these last few months ... just being really uncertain about my life. I get scared a lot, as things just don't seem to be working out as I had hoped they would. It's no secret that I'm struggling financially, and work ... well, there is definite room for improvement. Most days I want to curl into a ball and either just sleep or cry. It's almost as if I'm being tested ... by God and the people around me. I asked God Friday morning for a calm, peaceful and successful day ... and in turn got "lockdown," an issue with an ad that didn't run, and a late notice on a bill whose payment was mailed well enough in advance. How's that for a really crappy practical joke?
All of this feels very foreign to me. I've done all the "good girl" things ... I've followed the list of expectations to the letter. High school? Check. College? Check. Honors student? Check. Working girl? Check. Kind to others? Check. Giver of second, third and fourth chances? Check, check and check. Putter-upper of shit belonging to and caused by other people? Yup ... check. Where the hell is this karma I've been hearing so much about?
I didn't start this blog to just air my complaints. This is really what's going on in my life right now. I'm working through it the best I can ... just trying to take one day at a time and, as previously noted on this blog, calm the eff down.
So right now, I'm going upstairs, climbing into bed and plugging along through my copy of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. If nothing else, perhaps I'll learn a spell on how to change all of this craziness.
Monday, July 23, 2007
The Comforts of Home
I don't know how this fits in with my girl-power attitude, but I enjoy domesticity. I like cooking, cleaning and taking care of all things related to home. I haven't gotten to do much of it lately, what with limited financial resources, work, two grad classes and a bunch of messy boys. This house is in chaos right now, and it's stressing. me. out.
A co-worker once told me that a former boss of mine had made a remark about how I "like things just so." I was angry at first (I didn't really like this particular boss), but I (begrudgingly) realize that she was right. I like order and structure in my life, and I'm at my happiest when things are neat, organized and occur as scheduled.
Today, I started going home on my lunch break. The benefits of this are numerous: it saves money, it's better for my health, and it gives me an hour to accomplish those little household odds and ends that there never seems to be time for in the evenings. I'm actually at home right now, and I've made the bed, started the dishwasher and put in a load of laundry. All of this will contribute to my sanity later this evening, as I attempt to finish my last two assignments for these courses.
I'm a terrible procrastinator.
That's something else I'm hoping to accomplish in the next few weeks ... to get on -- and stay on -- top of things. I've already warned Steve that this next week will be filled with cleaning, organizing and purging this house. We collect way too many things that we just don't need. Secondly, I'm making a vow right here and now to keep up better with my schoolwork. I've done very well as far as grades are concerned, but I wait far too long to start assignments, often pushing it off until the day it's due, then getting crazy stressed trying to get it all done. That's just stupid. It makes me feel horrible and worried, and I'm pretty sure Steve is sick of it, too, as I'm an absolute bear when I hit panic mode.
There are many aspects of my life that need maintenance. I suppose when you begin the "steady decline toward 30" (that's for you, Erin!), it's time for a routine check-up. I feel like I'm beginning that stage where you're supposed to really start getting everything together, finding out who you are and where your life is headed. It's pull-your-head-out-of-your-ass-time!
After tonight, I have a one-month break from schoolwork, and during that time I'm going to be doing a lot of thinking, a lot of cleaning, and a lot of just calming the eff down. For the last few months I've experienced this strong, nearly overwhelming urge to simplify, simplify, simplify ... in all areas. With money, with possessions, with worries, with everything. I need to learn to take my time and start enjoying the little things ... which are the best things, anyway.
Deep breath ... release. Live!
A co-worker once told me that a former boss of mine had made a remark about how I "like things just so." I was angry at first (I didn't really like this particular boss), but I (begrudgingly) realize that she was right. I like order and structure in my life, and I'm at my happiest when things are neat, organized and occur as scheduled.
Today, I started going home on my lunch break. The benefits of this are numerous: it saves money, it's better for my health, and it gives me an hour to accomplish those little household odds and ends that there never seems to be time for in the evenings. I'm actually at home right now, and I've made the bed, started the dishwasher and put in a load of laundry. All of this will contribute to my sanity later this evening, as I attempt to finish my last two assignments for these courses.
I'm a terrible procrastinator.
That's something else I'm hoping to accomplish in the next few weeks ... to get on -- and stay on -- top of things. I've already warned Steve that this next week will be filled with cleaning, organizing and purging this house. We collect way too many things that we just don't need. Secondly, I'm making a vow right here and now to keep up better with my schoolwork. I've done very well as far as grades are concerned, but I wait far too long to start assignments, often pushing it off until the day it's due, then getting crazy stressed trying to get it all done. That's just stupid. It makes me feel horrible and worried, and I'm pretty sure Steve is sick of it, too, as I'm an absolute bear when I hit panic mode.
There are many aspects of my life that need maintenance. I suppose when you begin the "steady decline toward 30" (that's for you, Erin!), it's time for a routine check-up. I feel like I'm beginning that stage where you're supposed to really start getting everything together, finding out who you are and where your life is headed. It's pull-your-head-out-of-your-ass-time!
After tonight, I have a one-month break from schoolwork, and during that time I'm going to be doing a lot of thinking, a lot of cleaning, and a lot of just calming the eff down. For the last few months I've experienced this strong, nearly overwhelming urge to simplify, simplify, simplify ... in all areas. With money, with possessions, with worries, with everything. I need to learn to take my time and start enjoying the little things ... which are the best things, anyway.
Deep breath ... release. Live!
Sunday, July 22, 2007
Where Have I Been?
In a funk, that's where. A holler-like funk so deep you have to pipe in the sunshine.
N. went home Friday, one day shy of his 13th birthday. It was a difficult day for all involved, for various reasons. This particular situation is wrapped in so many emotions that I don't know where to begin, so I simply won't. I'm trying to master the art of taking one day at a time, to not worry about things until I absolutely have to. That in itself is going to be a big mountain to climb ... but I'm gonna have to do it, else I'm gonna end up driving myself bonkers.
We celebrated N.'s birthday last Sunday. While he and Steve were fishing on the Cranberry River where Steve grew up, I went shopping and found a bunch of Tony Hawk skateboarding clothes on sale at Kohl's, plus a book about rock and roll and another book of devotions for men. We're not really religious people, if you use the traditional sense of the word "religious." Our views are a bit different from some of the things organized churches would have you believe. But N.'s grandfather (Steve's dad) is a pastor, and it means a lot to him. His grandpa gave him a little New Testament Gideon Bible a few years ago, and he still carries it around with him. It's kind of like one of very few things he feels keeps him connected to his family here in West Virginia. It's very sweet ... and sometimes a little sad. Anyway, I wanted him to know that loving God and always trying to do the right thing are good things that we support, so I went ahead and picked up the book. I hope he likes it. I KNOW he loved the clothes. As soon as he opened the boxes he ripped off what he was wearing and put on his new stuff. That made my heart feel good. He's a tough one to read, so I was really worried he wouldn't like what I picked out.
After gifts we took him out for Chinese food, and then back to Kohl's for some more clothes since they were so cheap. Later, he had a few of his new friends from our complex over for homemade cake. We were going to buy him an ice cream cake or a sheet cake from the grocery store, but he requested that it be homemade. This, too, made my heart swell just a little. It reminded me of the time he said he wasn't hungry until he found out we were all going to have breakfast together around the dining room table. Like a family.
That day was one of the best we had all summer. He seemed so happy, and it was really good to see that.
Now he's back in Phoenix, and the real tests begin. We'll see how everything goes.
**My freaking sister just IM-ed me and is trying to reveal information about the last Harry Potter book. I don't care if she's handicapped. I will kill her if she doesn't quit.**
To alleviate some of the post-summer with the kids blues, Steve and I took a lovely drive up to Spruce Knob on Saturday. The day was absolutely gorgeous: blue skies, big, puffy clouds, good music and good company. That was one of the things I missed most when the kids were here ... all the quality time I usually get with Steve. (Though it was a small price to pay for having them here ... which is infintely more important.) We took some really pretty pictures from the observation tower ... the same observation tower Steve tried to get me to pee on. I was stupid and didn't use the restroom in town, and because Spruce Knob is about two thousand miles from anywhere, my bladder, she was a-burstin' by the time we made it to the top. I maintained my dignity, however, choosing instead to crawl under several feet of pine protection to do my business while Steve stood guard. I haven't peed in the woods since I was seven! We met up with Leann and Erin in Elkins for dinner and ice cream ... it was a lot of laughs, as usual!
Today has been ... melancholy, at best. I'm still really, really missing home. It was so beautiful over there yesterday. Beautiful and calm and normal. I didn't want to leave. I'm also feeling a bit blue about my new job. I was so excited about it ... and then I ended up sitting around for six weeks waiting for someone to give me a sales territory. And now ... well, I just don't know. I think perhaps I jumped the gun, made a hasty decision. I'm just not happy with it. A lot of it has to do with the self-doubt I've been carrying around with me since, oh, the first grade. So, it's back to the drawing board, as they say. I just hate all of this. I wish for once in my life I could find something good that makes me happy. Or at least makes me not dread getting out of bed. Perhaps I'm the problem ... or maybe I'm just fed up with this company. My past three jobs have been within the same company, so maybe I just need to make a break and see what the rest of the world has to offer. Or at least the greater Parkersburg-Marietta area. So, please, say a prayer. This is becoming a real problem.
I know this post is getting long, so I'll quit for tonight. My classes end tomorrow, so I'll have all kinds of time to get better at keeping you informed of the goings-on in my world. Until next time, love, peace and chicken grease.
N. went home Friday, one day shy of his 13th birthday. It was a difficult day for all involved, for various reasons. This particular situation is wrapped in so many emotions that I don't know where to begin, so I simply won't. I'm trying to master the art of taking one day at a time, to not worry about things until I absolutely have to. That in itself is going to be a big mountain to climb ... but I'm gonna have to do it, else I'm gonna end up driving myself bonkers.
We celebrated N.'s birthday last Sunday. While he and Steve were fishing on the Cranberry River where Steve grew up, I went shopping and found a bunch of Tony Hawk skateboarding clothes on sale at Kohl's, plus a book about rock and roll and another book of devotions for men. We're not really religious people, if you use the traditional sense of the word "religious." Our views are a bit different from some of the things organized churches would have you believe. But N.'s grandfather (Steve's dad) is a pastor, and it means a lot to him. His grandpa gave him a little New Testament Gideon Bible a few years ago, and he still carries it around with him. It's kind of like one of very few things he feels keeps him connected to his family here in West Virginia. It's very sweet ... and sometimes a little sad. Anyway, I wanted him to know that loving God and always trying to do the right thing are good things that we support, so I went ahead and picked up the book. I hope he likes it. I KNOW he loved the clothes. As soon as he opened the boxes he ripped off what he was wearing and put on his new stuff. That made my heart feel good. He's a tough one to read, so I was really worried he wouldn't like what I picked out.
After gifts we took him out for Chinese food, and then back to Kohl's for some more clothes since they were so cheap. Later, he had a few of his new friends from our complex over for homemade cake. We were going to buy him an ice cream cake or a sheet cake from the grocery store, but he requested that it be homemade. This, too, made my heart swell just a little. It reminded me of the time he said he wasn't hungry until he found out we were all going to have breakfast together around the dining room table. Like a family.
That day was one of the best we had all summer. He seemed so happy, and it was really good to see that.
Now he's back in Phoenix, and the real tests begin. We'll see how everything goes.
**My freaking sister just IM-ed me and is trying to reveal information about the last Harry Potter book. I don't care if she's handicapped. I will kill her if she doesn't quit.**
To alleviate some of the post-summer with the kids blues, Steve and I took a lovely drive up to Spruce Knob on Saturday. The day was absolutely gorgeous: blue skies, big, puffy clouds, good music and good company. That was one of the things I missed most when the kids were here ... all the quality time I usually get with Steve. (Though it was a small price to pay for having them here ... which is infintely more important.) We took some really pretty pictures from the observation tower ... the same observation tower Steve tried to get me to pee on. I was stupid and didn't use the restroom in town, and because Spruce Knob is about two thousand miles from anywhere, my bladder, she was a-burstin' by the time we made it to the top. I maintained my dignity, however, choosing instead to crawl under several feet of pine protection to do my business while Steve stood guard. I haven't peed in the woods since I was seven! We met up with Leann and Erin in Elkins for dinner and ice cream ... it was a lot of laughs, as usual!
Today has been ... melancholy, at best. I'm still really, really missing home. It was so beautiful over there yesterday. Beautiful and calm and normal. I didn't want to leave. I'm also feeling a bit blue about my new job. I was so excited about it ... and then I ended up sitting around for six weeks waiting for someone to give me a sales territory. And now ... well, I just don't know. I think perhaps I jumped the gun, made a hasty decision. I'm just not happy with it. A lot of it has to do with the self-doubt I've been carrying around with me since, oh, the first grade. So, it's back to the drawing board, as they say. I just hate all of this. I wish for once in my life I could find something good that makes me happy. Or at least makes me not dread getting out of bed. Perhaps I'm the problem ... or maybe I'm just fed up with this company. My past three jobs have been within the same company, so maybe I just need to make a break and see what the rest of the world has to offer. Or at least the greater Parkersburg-Marietta area. So, please, say a prayer. This is becoming a real problem.
I know this post is getting long, so I'll quit for tonight. My classes end tomorrow, so I'll have all kinds of time to get better at keeping you informed of the goings-on in my world. Until next time, love, peace and chicken grease.
Sunday, July 8, 2007
Hole in the Heart
Giving in to Steve's obsessive need to make his Jeep look bigger, badder and meaner than all other Jeeps in the land, we piled in the car yesterday for a 4.5 hour trip over the mountains and through the woods to Staunton, Va., to pick up a set of pre-purchased doors. He already had a set of doors, you see, but they were half steel/half plastic and thus were very noisy on the road.
In blatant snubbery of Mapquest (whose directions are stupid and inefficient) we planned our route to said destination via my hometown even though it meant whipping my little car around some viciously twisty-turvy mountains. But it also meant gazing out the window at some of the prettiest scenery with which God graced the planet. About halfway through the first stage of the trip, though, a nagging, knotting presented itself in the pit of my stomach ... and it wasn't motion sickness. Nope, it was worse. It was home sickness, and it was there to do battle.
I've always been rather attached to my hometown, though I admit I was one of those people who swore as a teenager that I was leaving and never going back. My first job out of college was back home, and I stayed there a full three years before leaving in the typical way ... following someone else. We moved to a town about 2.5 hours away, and we've been here a little over a year. I like it well enough ... but it's not home.
Now, usually when I start on this topic, I'm told that it's unreasonable to think that one will live in his/her hometown for life. I know that. Most people in the United States grow up in small towns where the chance for decent-paying jobs are very slim. I know this because I grew up in a town like that. If there had been a chance to do so, we'd still be there.
On second thought ... there haven't really been that many opportunities for me, specifically, to make any more money here than I did there. Each move I've made has been lateral, whilst the bills, they keep-a-coming.
I just stinking miss it. I miss the quietness. I miss knowing everyone. I miss hanging out with my friends, taking strolls through the neighborhood, and being close to the people I love. I miss having a sense of place ... a sense of purpose. It's stupid, I know, but back there I knew who I was. Here ... I'm not so sure. It seems my life here is devoted to meeting the expectations of other people. I'm tired of success being judged by external criteria. I'm tired of everyone believing success is found only by venturing out into the world and climbing to the top of this make-believe ladder that places value only on the weight of things you accumulate. Is it wrong to simply want a quiet existence? My heart says no ... the world screams yes.
I'm sick of being bound by these stupid expectations. I'm sick of feeling like my contributions aren't enough ... that the things I want are of little importance. That my sacrifices mean nothing ... earn me nothing. If I knew Capital One, et. al wouldn't trace my scent, I'd be outta here. Gone to a little cabin by a stream somewhere, happily planting a garden, taking walks and reading books. I'd make a great hobbit. Unfortunately, I don't think I'll ever get the chance. The hole I've dug for myself is too deep for that.
Guess I'll have to be content with the big, hairy feet.
In blatant snubbery of Mapquest (whose directions are stupid and inefficient) we planned our route to said destination via my hometown even though it meant whipping my little car around some viciously twisty-turvy mountains. But it also meant gazing out the window at some of the prettiest scenery with which God graced the planet. About halfway through the first stage of the trip, though, a nagging, knotting presented itself in the pit of my stomach ... and it wasn't motion sickness. Nope, it was worse. It was home sickness, and it was there to do battle.
I've always been rather attached to my hometown, though I admit I was one of those people who swore as a teenager that I was leaving and never going back. My first job out of college was back home, and I stayed there a full three years before leaving in the typical way ... following someone else. We moved to a town about 2.5 hours away, and we've been here a little over a year. I like it well enough ... but it's not home.
Now, usually when I start on this topic, I'm told that it's unreasonable to think that one will live in his/her hometown for life. I know that. Most people in the United States grow up in small towns where the chance for decent-paying jobs are very slim. I know this because I grew up in a town like that. If there had been a chance to do so, we'd still be there.
On second thought ... there haven't really been that many opportunities for me, specifically, to make any more money here than I did there. Each move I've made has been lateral, whilst the bills, they keep-a-coming.
I just stinking miss it. I miss the quietness. I miss knowing everyone. I miss hanging out with my friends, taking strolls through the neighborhood, and being close to the people I love. I miss having a sense of place ... a sense of purpose. It's stupid, I know, but back there I knew who I was. Here ... I'm not so sure. It seems my life here is devoted to meeting the expectations of other people. I'm tired of success being judged by external criteria. I'm tired of everyone believing success is found only by venturing out into the world and climbing to the top of this make-believe ladder that places value only on the weight of things you accumulate. Is it wrong to simply want a quiet existence? My heart says no ... the world screams yes.
I'm sick of being bound by these stupid expectations. I'm sick of feeling like my contributions aren't enough ... that the things I want are of little importance. That my sacrifices mean nothing ... earn me nothing. If I knew Capital One, et. al wouldn't trace my scent, I'd be outta here. Gone to a little cabin by a stream somewhere, happily planting a garden, taking walks and reading books. I'd make a great hobbit. Unfortunately, I don't think I'll ever get the chance. The hole I've dug for myself is too deep for that.
Guess I'll have to be content with the big, hairy feet.
Sunday, July 1, 2007
Overwhelmed
Exhausted. Confused. Physically and emotionally drained.
It's been a long four days. As mentioned in previous post, Steve took K1 home Thursday evening. It is now 10:02 p.m. Sunday, and he's not home yet. Almost, but not yet. Another two and a half hours to go. Although I typically cherish the occasional alone time I get, I've spent the past 72 to 94 hours just wishing he would get his ass back here. I don't envy him ... he's the one who had to spend all that time in the car, plus do the hardest thing any parent could ever have to do.
Still. I'm used to being here alone for a few days at a time. This time, though, I technically wasn't alone. N is still here, and I've been watching him for the past four days. It was much better than I anticipated .... much better. Didn't have a single problem, really. We watched movies, went out for dinner a few times, poked around the local bookstore and snuck out for a late-night ice cream cone. He's been relatively quiet, decently respectful and overall pretty darn good. I suspect this new found behavior has something to do with his dad's promise of some new skateboarding equipment in exchange for not provoking me to the point of murder. Suspect? Hell, forget suspect. I know that's what is behind all of this.
Despite this, I feel very weird. Discombobulated. Detached from my ordinary life. Having N here has opened a very large, very smelly and very dirty can of worms that no one was even remotely prepared for. Don't know what to do. Don't know what to think. Don't know where to go. Just don't know. Very scared. Trying to stay/think positive. Curiosity killed the cat, it's told ... and wonder killed its owner.
It's been an emotional weekend for all of us. Lots of tears, for various reasons. K1 had a really hard time when Steve dropped him off. His mom bought a new house, and there was some separation anxiety as a result. (Can't say I blame him ... I once cried for an entire day because my parents got rid of our couch. I believe 'ol K1 and I are quite the peas in the pod.)And then, of course, there was the fact that he was completely wiped out when he finally got home, what after being cooped up in a car for two days. Oh, yeah ... and the fact that he misses his dad. I wish so damn hard there was a clear, sure-fire solution to all of this. But there isn't, and I guess that's why they call it life. Steve talked to him just a little while ago and he finally got calmed down and was sounding like his normal, happy self. We're both relieved. I'm going to send him an e-mail in the next few days, perhaps quizzing him on North Dakota. I swear the kid needs to get a job with that state's tourism department!
I should be doing homework ... but I've been doing homework for the past two days, and at some point, enough is enough. It isn't due until midnight tomorrow, and I'm much farther along this week than I was last week. I've been so distracted ... so many things happening all at once. I can only blame myself ... I signed up for two classes forgetting that they would start the same week the boys arrived, which also happened to be the same week I started my new job. In fact, my classes last the exact duration of N's stay here. They end the weekend he goes home. God, if I can just make it through these last three weeks!
I know I will. I always do. It's not as bad as I like to make it sound. I'm rather dramatic .. .always have been. Guess this way, life is never dull.
Until next time ... !
It's been a long four days. As mentioned in previous post, Steve took K1 home Thursday evening. It is now 10:02 p.m. Sunday, and he's not home yet. Almost, but not yet. Another two and a half hours to go. Although I typically cherish the occasional alone time I get, I've spent the past 72 to 94 hours just wishing he would get his ass back here. I don't envy him ... he's the one who had to spend all that time in the car, plus do the hardest thing any parent could ever have to do.
Still. I'm used to being here alone for a few days at a time. This time, though, I technically wasn't alone. N is still here, and I've been watching him for the past four days. It was much better than I anticipated .... much better. Didn't have a single problem, really. We watched movies, went out for dinner a few times, poked around the local bookstore and snuck out for a late-night ice cream cone. He's been relatively quiet, decently respectful and overall pretty darn good. I suspect this new found behavior has something to do with his dad's promise of some new skateboarding equipment in exchange for not provoking me to the point of murder. Suspect? Hell, forget suspect. I know that's what is behind all of this.
Despite this, I feel very weird. Discombobulated. Detached from my ordinary life. Having N here has opened a very large, very smelly and very dirty can of worms that no one was even remotely prepared for. Don't know what to do. Don't know what to think. Don't know where to go. Just don't know. Very scared. Trying to stay/think positive. Curiosity killed the cat, it's told ... and wonder killed its owner.
It's been an emotional weekend for all of us. Lots of tears, for various reasons. K1 had a really hard time when Steve dropped him off. His mom bought a new house, and there was some separation anxiety as a result. (Can't say I blame him ... I once cried for an entire day because my parents got rid of our couch. I believe 'ol K1 and I are quite the peas in the pod.)And then, of course, there was the fact that he was completely wiped out when he finally got home, what after being cooped up in a car for two days. Oh, yeah ... and the fact that he misses his dad. I wish so damn hard there was a clear, sure-fire solution to all of this. But there isn't, and I guess that's why they call it life. Steve talked to him just a little while ago and he finally got calmed down and was sounding like his normal, happy self. We're both relieved. I'm going to send him an e-mail in the next few days, perhaps quizzing him on North Dakota. I swear the kid needs to get a job with that state's tourism department!
I should be doing homework ... but I've been doing homework for the past two days, and at some point, enough is enough. It isn't due until midnight tomorrow, and I'm much farther along this week than I was last week. I've been so distracted ... so many things happening all at once. I can only blame myself ... I signed up for two classes forgetting that they would start the same week the boys arrived, which also happened to be the same week I started my new job. In fact, my classes last the exact duration of N's stay here. They end the weekend he goes home. God, if I can just make it through these last three weeks!
I know I will. I always do. It's not as bad as I like to make it sound. I'm rather dramatic .. .always have been. Guess this way, life is never dull.
Until next time ... !
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