He gave me a card, as he does once in a while out of the blue, about how I see him happy, and grumpy, and sick, and silly, and thank you, for still choosing to love him.
He let me take custody of his grandmother’s rocking chair indefinitely because I said I missed having one.
He told me to take my time getting over my divorce — to be true to my own timetable.
He called me a “lovely woman.”
It was a good weekend.
Do you want to have lunch at the Thai restaurant?
No, let’s just grab a sandwich at our usual.
How are you?
Ok. I had bad dreams…You left me.
Do you want to come over on Tuesday nights and watch Genius together?
I could do that. We sleep better in my bed, though.
Do you like my new purse? I decided it was easier and cheaper to just buy a new bag instead of searching for new handles for my old one.
Well, it’s not a Dooney & Bourke, is it?
As in shaky, not in a “Feel so good, gotta shake it” way.
And not an ice cream way.
My fingers are shaking.
My head shook when I belted back that can of diet pepsi.
That happens though.
My head shakes back and forth when I’m
angry mad — angry is too open and vowel-y — so does the rest of me but well-meaning people point out my head shake. As in, “Are you aware that you’re shaking?”
Prozac up-ed dosage, weird blood sugar, or my usual essential tremors. Who knows.
Maybe I scared the sh*t out of myself. All the time. All day today.
Is it wrong if they’re just half price Easter minis?
What if you eat 25 of them? In a row? Does tearing off the wrappers of 25 minis count as exercise?
Is this scenario wrong if you’re 50-something?
Yes, yes, yes, yes, no, yes.
And yet…here we are.
Yes, a little, at least.
I still have the numb tongue, but it’s getting less and less, and wears off during the day.
I can get out the door in the morning.
I can navigate my new, weird boss. That only took 4 months ; – )
Sunshine and flowers make me happy. SOMETHING lifts my BCI. Is that what I called it? Check up with the Prozac pusher (and I mean that in the most respectful way) next Wednesday.
Whew…I don’t want to jump the gun, here, but…
I think I’m back.
I can’t keep blogging with all the new stuff going on — new needy boss, thoughts of a big career change, trying to not think about my dang ole divorce EVERY day.
So, ta ta for now. It has been wonderful getting to know you. Keep up the fleet fingers because I hope to keep reading what you’re writing.
Thank you for taking this 2-year journey with me. I can’t say I couldn’t have done it without you, but it was much better doing it WITH you.
Likeliney moving on…
As you may know from the sidebar here -> that way ->
I follow Daniel Scranton’s blog. You should go on over there and read the post on, “Pain is your friend.”
I have to admit, first I said, “No, it’s not!” but I sort of see the point here.
I also know I’m very gullible, and suggestible, and frankly, not very intellectually curious or discerning. My reflex is to just believe everything, versus figure it out for myself. It’s just a fact I have to be wary of.
What do y’all think of this concept?
I think it would be helpful for me to believe it…So, does that make it ok, or is the “truth” required here? (There’s a lot of annoying quotation marks on this page!)
I also follow Abraham-Hicks. The message in my daily email from them today was, “When you are comfortable on your path, it doesn’t matter where it leads.”
So you can have “Pain” in your life and still be “comfortable” on your path?
Wait…my tiny little brain is about to explode…