Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Rocks, Hard Places and Catch 22s
Trapped amongst the rocks, the hard places and squarely in the middle of a Catch 22. That's where you'd find me today. Anybody care to throw me a lifeline?
Monday, July 30, 2007
Time is up
On my six month lease on my rental place that is. I started renting February 1 so tomorrow, July 31, is the end of the lease. I spent a good part of this past weekend emptying it out and will go back and clean it up today so I can get my security deposit back.
I liked having that place. I liked that I had somewhere to go to be all by myself. I liked that BJ had a place to stay when he came to visit me. I hate to let it go. However, I can't hold onto it and spend over $400 a month just to have a place to use on a very occasional basis.
One more chapter closed.
I liked having that place. I liked that I had somewhere to go to be all by myself. I liked that BJ had a place to stay when he came to visit me. I hate to let it go. However, I can't hold onto it and spend over $400 a month just to have a place to use on a very occasional basis.
One more chapter closed.
Saturday, July 28, 2007
Rant – Part VI
I promise this is the last of it. I can't stand it anymore either so I'm finishing up so we can all move on, so to speak. Come tomorrow I’ll find something less whiney to write, or at least I'll write on a different topic even if it is whiney.
Tuesday morning dawns with mescared shitless nervous about checking on W to see how he’s doing after his falls the night before. After showering and dressing I go check on him to find that he is lying in his bed on his side with his eyes open and his CPAP removed. I ask him how he feels. Sore, but he’d already been up to the bathroom a little earlier and intends to work on getting up soon. I leave for work.
At lunch time I call to check on things. W says he has been up a short time. It’s hard to walk particularly going up and down the stairs. I ask if he’d like me to bring lunch home, and he says yes so I do so. At lunch, W tells me he is calling around to handyman services to see if he can find someone to move the desk top from the truck to the garage. So far he has had no luck finding anyone who can do it on such short notice.
After lunch I return to work and try not to think about the behemoth truck sitting in my driveway. Once my work day is over I head home thinking that I am going to have to find some way of getting thatgoddamned motherfucking desktop out of the truck all by myself. I haven’t a clue how, but I will try. EXCEPT that I forgot that we have our marital counseling by phone in the evening. Therefore my priority becomes making dinner so we can eat prior to the call. We eat. We call. We talk. We cry. We talk some more. It is after 9:00 p.m. before I even have a chance to think about the desktop or the truck or anything else. I give up and do nothing about it at all.
Wednesday morning W announces that he feels better and that he is going to get that desktop out of the truck all by himself. I go to work and try not to think about what could happen. Sometimes, when you least expect it, things actually go right for a change. Late morning W calls to tell me he has gotten the desktop to the garage safely and without incident. He is about to take the truck back to the rental place. He calls later to let me know that the truck has been returned, and he and N have safely returned home via the local bus system. Hallelujah!
I swear to you at that moment I was ready to sing praises to the heavens that it was all over.
Tuesday morning dawns with me
At lunch time I call to check on things. W says he has been up a short time. It’s hard to walk particularly going up and down the stairs. I ask if he’d like me to bring lunch home, and he says yes so I do so. At lunch, W tells me he is calling around to handyman services to see if he can find someone to move the desk top from the truck to the garage. So far he has had no luck finding anyone who can do it on such short notice.
After lunch I return to work and try not to think about the behemoth truck sitting in my driveway. Once my work day is over I head home thinking that I am going to have to find some way of getting that
Wednesday morning W announces that he feels better and that he is going to get that desktop out of the truck all by himself. I go to work and try not to think about what could happen. Sometimes, when you least expect it, things actually go right for a change. Late morning W calls to tell me he has gotten the desktop to the garage safely and without incident. He is about to take the truck back to the rental place. He calls later to let me know that the truck has been returned, and he and N have safely returned home via the local bus system. Hallelujah!
I swear to you at that moment I was ready to sing praises to the heavens that it was all over.
[cue Hallelujah Chorus]
Until I remembered all that junk in the garage. . .
[cue screechy scary music from Psycho]
[cue screechy scary music from Psycho]
Rant – Part V
Let’s see. Where were we? Oh yes, Monday evening. I arrive home to find the truck still fully loaded but at least backed into the driveway to begin the unloading process. W and I discuss going out for a quick dinner (due to no grocery shopping since the weekend away) and then returning to unload the truck. I agree to this and go in the house to wait for it to happen. (I learned long ago that when W, or anyone in his family, says they are ready to leave to go do something it will be at the very least another half hour before they are really ready to leave. I have no idea why. I just know that’s the way it is.)
About 20 minutes later, W comes into the house and tells me that he has found a college student willing to help him unload, the father of one of N’s friends. I ask if he would like me to go get takeout for dinner and bring it back to him while he and this guy work on unloading. No, he says he really wanted to go sit down and eat somewhere so he told the guy to come back in an hour. (Oh, can you guess where this is going? Please, please take a guess.) We go to dinner at a fast food place close by and return to the house in about 45 minutes. I asked W if I should change clothes and help with the unloading or if he is good with his student help. He says he’s good with the student help. I go inside relieved that I have been relieved from duty. N goes off to play with friends.
A while later N calls my cell phone and asks if his friend’s dad ever showed up. I tell him I don’t know and that he should call W’s cell phone and ask him. Questions start to float through my mind, but I go back to reading the evening paper trying to not think about it. W wanders through, and I ask him if the guy ever showed up, and he says that he hasn’t. (Is there anyone here who didn't see that coming? Anyone? Anyone?) I tell W I’ll change clothes and be out to help him. He says not to bother, that he can handle it. I doubt very much that this is true but choose not to argue. I roll my eyes after he walks away and return again to my evening paper.
No more than an hour into the project my cell phone rings again. I see from the display that it is W. I answer and hear him weakly say “Help.” I try to ask a few questions, but receive only silence or another weak “help” to each one so I hang up, fold up the paper, get up from my recliner and head out to the driveway. The hand truck he is using is on its side along with a box that had obviously been on it, and just beyond that W is lying on the concrete on his back looking pale. I help him up and get him to a place to sit down in the garage and ask what happened. He was backing down the truck’s ramp with the box on the hand truck when due to its weight it started going too fast, he fell and everything went flying. He claims to be okay, just stunned a bit. I start unloading the truck, barefoot and in my business clothes. I didn’t want to leave him alone even for the time it would take to go in and change. Soon N shows up and wants to know why I am unloading the truck. I explain, and he starts to help. W too joins in as he says he feels better but he is moving slowly. We seem to be making some good progress. Then with my back turned W falls again. This time he says his knee gave out on him, and he just crumpled to the ground. His elbow is scraped, and he has much more difficulty getting up even with my assistance. To get him into the house I stand in front of him and have him put his hands on my shoulders and we “conga line” our way into the house and to a chair where he sits for the remainder of the evening.
N and I finish unloading the truck all except one piece, the top to the computer desk. It is heavy. It is also large and unwieldy. N and I are both tired. I close up the back of the truck and give up for the night. As I close the garage doors I marvel at how we had filled a two-car garage with all ourshit crap junk valuable items. N falls asleep easily that night. W takes a shower and goes to bed early. I power up the laptop but fall asleep in the recliner before it ever finishes powering up. I awaken around 1:00 a.m. power down the laptop and collapse into my comfy cozy bed.
Arggh, you’d think this would be over by now, but you would be wrong. We should only have one more installment though. Come back for Part VI and find out if the top of the computer desk was ever removed from the truck and if the truck ever made it back to the rental place. Oh, and let me say for the record, moving sucks.
About 20 minutes later, W comes into the house and tells me that he has found a college student willing to help him unload, the father of one of N’s friends. I ask if he would like me to go get takeout for dinner and bring it back to him while he and this guy work on unloading. No, he says he really wanted to go sit down and eat somewhere so he told the guy to come back in an hour. (Oh, can you guess where this is going? Please, please take a guess.) We go to dinner at a fast food place close by and return to the house in about 45 minutes. I asked W if I should change clothes and help with the unloading or if he is good with his student help. He says he’s good with the student help. I go inside relieved that I have been relieved from duty. N goes off to play with friends.
A while later N calls my cell phone and asks if his friend’s dad ever showed up. I tell him I don’t know and that he should call W’s cell phone and ask him. Questions start to float through my mind, but I go back to reading the evening paper trying to not think about it. W wanders through, and I ask him if the guy ever showed up, and he says that he hasn’t. (Is there anyone here who didn't see that coming? Anyone? Anyone?) I tell W I’ll change clothes and be out to help him. He says not to bother, that he can handle it. I doubt very much that this is true but choose not to argue. I roll my eyes after he walks away and return again to my evening paper.
No more than an hour into the project my cell phone rings again. I see from the display that it is W. I answer and hear him weakly say “Help.” I try to ask a few questions, but receive only silence or another weak “help” to each one so I hang up, fold up the paper, get up from my recliner and head out to the driveway. The hand truck he is using is on its side along with a box that had obviously been on it, and just beyond that W is lying on the concrete on his back looking pale. I help him up and get him to a place to sit down in the garage and ask what happened. He was backing down the truck’s ramp with the box on the hand truck when due to its weight it started going too fast, he fell and everything went flying. He claims to be okay, just stunned a bit. I start unloading the truck, barefoot and in my business clothes. I didn’t want to leave him alone even for the time it would take to go in and change. Soon N shows up and wants to know why I am unloading the truck. I explain, and he starts to help. W too joins in as he says he feels better but he is moving slowly. We seem to be making some good progress. Then with my back turned W falls again. This time he says his knee gave out on him, and he just crumpled to the ground. His elbow is scraped, and he has much more difficulty getting up even with my assistance. To get him into the house I stand in front of him and have him put his hands on my shoulders and we “conga line” our way into the house and to a chair where he sits for the remainder of the evening.
N and I finish unloading the truck all except one piece, the top to the computer desk. It is heavy. It is also large and unwieldy. N and I are both tired. I close up the back of the truck and give up for the night. As I close the garage doors I marvel at how we had filled a two-car garage with all our
Arggh, you’d think this would be over by now, but you would be wrong. We should only have one more installment though. Come back for Part VI and find out if the top of the computer desk was ever removed from the truck and if the truck ever made it back to the rental place. Oh, and let me say for the record, moving sucks.
Friday, July 27, 2007
Thanks Horoscope, I Needed That
Even if you are overly involved with family issues now, you can still take a practical approach to what's going on. Your chosen path may not be the easiest way out, for you are willing to take a stand for what you know to be important. Stick to your plan and things will come around.
Rant – Part IV
Sunday afternoon a little after 3:00 p.m., I finally have N loaded in the car. W has already headed out in the massive rental truck. I drive away from our old neighborhood, get on the freeway, and N announces that he is hungry. Of course. I agree to go through a drive thru and get him something to eat on the road. I make the unforgivable sin of passing the first exit with a McDonald’s at it. There is barely any redemption for me even though two exits later (less than three miles) there is another McDonald’s at which we can purchase the holy grail of junk food – 6 Chicken McNuggets, fries, lots of ketchup, and root beer.
Once his tummy was full, and I put his favorite Keith Urban CD on, N fell fast asleep thanks to a late night at his friend’s house the night before. The rest of the drive was spent in peace, and after a few songs I switched from CD to NPR and happily listened to that for the rest of the trip. I tried to resist the urge, but could not, to scan the roadside for evidence of a crash by a rental truck. No wreckage was ever spotted, and I breathed a sigh of relief when I finally exited the interstate and headed into town. Perhaps W had made it safely hurtling down the road in a massive truck at speeds of 70 mph or more, unless you are a state trooper reading this in which case no one on this trip ever exceeded the posted speed limit of 65 at any time, really. I breathed an even bigger sigh of relief when I turned the corner onto our street and saw the truck parked at the curb. It didn’t even look any more banged up than when we got it. Whew!
It was now 6:30. I asked W if he wanted to have dinner first or start unloading the truck and have a late dinner. That’s when I learned that he had no intention of unloading on Sunday night but intended to do it on Monday before he returned the truck. Hmm, he intended to unload the truck all by himself while I was at work? This did not sound like a grand plan to me. No, he assured me he was going to find some local college boys to help him and wanted to know if I knew how he might find someone like that? Dumbfounded, I just stood in the driveway staring at him. I hadn’t a clue what to say. At which point he said let’s go to dinner, and we did. After we returned, we unloaded my car and the cooler from the truck, but that was it. I went to bed early. Going to bed early is my equivalent of an ostrich sticking its head in the sand.
Monday I awoke thrilled that I could go back to work, a place where relative calm and sanity reign. I went home at lunch to learn that while no unloading of the truck had taken place, W had spent the morning unsuccessfully trying to locate guys looking to earn a few bucks by unloading the truck. This would’ve been easy when we lived in northern CA. Where we lived there was a corner market where every morning immigrants of dubious legality queued up waiting for someone to drive by needing cheap labor. Apparently, here in Podunk, Midwest a similar corner doesn’t exist, or we just don’t know its location. I returned to work for the afternoon with W’s assurances that even though we would have to keep the truck for an extra day until Tuesday he would start unloading it himself that very afternoon. Did I believe him? Sort of. I took that wait and see attitude, as in “I’ll believe this when I see it for myself.”
When I returned home from work that evening, some progress had indeed been made. The truck had been moved from the curb to the driveway. Oh it was still loaded, still locked tight as a matter of fact, but it was 30 feet closer to the house than it had been earlier. We were making progress.
Wish I could say the same for this story. Looks like we’re into this for Part V, which will hopefully be the last part though given my propensity for dragging out a story perhaps we’ll make it all the way to Part VI. Let’s hope not.
Once his tummy was full, and I put his favorite Keith Urban CD on, N fell fast asleep thanks to a late night at his friend’s house the night before. The rest of the drive was spent in peace, and after a few songs I switched from CD to NPR and happily listened to that for the rest of the trip. I tried to resist the urge, but could not, to scan the roadside for evidence of a crash by a rental truck. No wreckage was ever spotted, and I breathed a sigh of relief when I finally exited the interstate and headed into town. Perhaps W had made it safely hurtling down the road in a massive truck at speeds of 70 mph or more, unless you are a state trooper reading this in which case no one on this trip ever exceeded the posted speed limit of 65 at any time, really. I breathed an even bigger sigh of relief when I turned the corner onto our street and saw the truck parked at the curb. It didn’t even look any more banged up than when we got it. Whew!
It was now 6:30. I asked W if he wanted to have dinner first or start unloading the truck and have a late dinner. That’s when I learned that he had no intention of unloading on Sunday night but intended to do it on Monday before he returned the truck. Hmm, he intended to unload the truck all by himself while I was at work? This did not sound like a grand plan to me. No, he assured me he was going to find some local college boys to help him and wanted to know if I knew how he might find someone like that? Dumbfounded, I just stood in the driveway staring at him. I hadn’t a clue what to say. At which point he said let’s go to dinner, and we did. After we returned, we unloaded my car and the cooler from the truck, but that was it. I went to bed early. Going to bed early is my equivalent of an ostrich sticking its head in the sand.
Monday I awoke thrilled that I could go back to work, a place where relative calm and sanity reign. I went home at lunch to learn that while no unloading of the truck had taken place, W had spent the morning unsuccessfully trying to locate guys looking to earn a few bucks by unloading the truck. This would’ve been easy when we lived in northern CA. Where we lived there was a corner market where every morning immigrants of dubious legality queued up waiting for someone to drive by needing cheap labor. Apparently, here in Podunk, Midwest a similar corner doesn’t exist, or we just don’t know its location. I returned to work for the afternoon with W’s assurances that even though we would have to keep the truck for an extra day until Tuesday he would start unloading it himself that very afternoon. Did I believe him? Sort of. I took that wait and see attitude, as in “I’ll believe this when I see it for myself.”
When I returned home from work that evening, some progress had indeed been made. The truck had been moved from the curb to the driveway. Oh it was still loaded, still locked tight as a matter of fact, but it was 30 feet closer to the house than it had been earlier. We were making progress.
Wish I could say the same for this story. Looks like we’re into this for Part V, which will hopefully be the last part though given my propensity for dragging out a story perhaps we’ll make it all the way to Part VI. Let’s hope not.
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Rant – Part III
This rant is dragging on almost as badly as the weekend did. Ha! Welcome to my world.Sunday morning dawned bright and clear. We made excuses to my parents why we needed to leave early that morning (I couldn’t bring myself to admit to them what a shambles everything is), and again we returned to the dreaded house with the dreaded mess that still needed to be packed and loaded. I had no choice left. The upstairs was pretty well finished except to clean out the refrigerator and load the boxes from the kitchen into the truck. I had to descend into the
Upon arriving in the basement I took stock of what remained. There were only a few items that remained in the back unfinished area. The two storage closets had been emptied the day before. The office still had two closets with shelves teeming with this, that and assorted other things, a bookcase with more assorted
Oh yes, I almost forgot this part. Sometime during the day W told me he'd packed the shotgun in the back of the truck. I was relieved. It's his gun after all, one that I've asked him numerous times to discard as he doesn't hunt and has no use for it. He is saving it for his son from his first marriage he says. I'd like him to go ahead and give it to his son, but of course W refuses. Why? No clue, but he does.
By this time it was time for me to go pick up N at his friend’s house. However, we clearly weren’t finished, and it wouldn’t be made any easier by having N underfoot. W called over to the friend’s house, found out it would be fine if we ran about an hour late, and we returned to our task. Let me interrupt here to say that I am out of shape, fat, lazy, not the kind of person who exercises regularly. On Sunday, I went up and down the basement stairs so much that (1)my legs are still sore from the experience (2)my bursitis is acting up and (3)I now look like and move at the speed of a little old lady when I walk. By the end of the experience I was almost crawling up those stairs, not an easy feat when carrying a full moving box with you.
Anyway, eventually we finished the basement. Everything had been brought upstairs, and most was loaded. I emptied the refrigerator into a cooler for items that were usable and the trash for items that weren’t usable. Then I went and picked up N so he could come back to the house one last time. I had tears in my eyes when I looked outside and saw him slowly swinging on the swing set. He then came in, walked through the house, opening every closet door, every cabinet, every drawer. I guess he wanted to just double check that we left nothing behind. In the meantime, W finished loading the truck. N wanted to go down the street to say goodbye to a couple of buddies. I told him okay but to come right back.
W closed up the truck and was ready to go. Although we had planned on leaving around 1:00 p.m. it was now almost 3:00 p.m. N was nowhere in sight. I told W to go ahead and leave, and I would track down N. I watched W drive off in that big truck still worried how that trip would go. Then I went and tracked down N who was playing a video game at one of his friend’s house. When I arrived asking for him, he came out and said “Oops, I forgot I was supposed to come right back.” Gotta love 8-year-olds. Or roll your eyes at them. Whatever.
Looming ahead was a three hour drive back to LNJ and the prospect of having to unload that truck once we got there. To say I was less than enthusiastic would be generous.
Oh dear, and now I’ve rambled on so long it looks like we’ll have to continue this in a Part IV. God help us all.
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Rant – Part II
As promised, I shall continue to rant here trying to let off steam.
Last weekend, we went one last time to LOH to clean out the house, load up all the stuff that was left behind before, and drag it up to LNJ. Now if all that had been left behind were truly just worthless junk then I would not have hesitated to just throw it all out. However, although we filled three trash cans plus had extra bags filled with trash, there were still a significant number of useful items that I wouldn’t want discarded.
W set out to rent a cargo van. That seemed a reasonable option to me although I was just a wee bit concerned it might not be big enough for all we were taking. The rental company doesn’t rent cargo vans one way, and renting a 10 foot truck one way was cheaper than renting a cargo van round trip so we opted for the 10 foot truck. On Saturday morning, as planned, I dropped W off at the truck rental place, ran a couple of errands, snuck in a phone call to BJ, and then met W back at the house. He arrived in a very large truck which I was to find out later was 15 feet not 10. Apparently, even though he reserved a 10 foot truck, they didn’t have any available so the rented him the 15 foot truck for the 10 foot truck price. Okay, sure, we had a lot of stuff to load but not near enough to fill a 15 foot truck!
Thoughts immediately sped through my head. Thoughts like how are we going to secure the load so it doesn’t just slide around in the back? Thoughts like how can I trust W to drive a truck that big without causing major damage to himself and others? Thoughts like how the fuck did I get myself into this? I did what any good conflict avoider would do and offered to go get lunch for the two of us while he started loading the truck. I soon returned with wraps from a local place we like.
After lunch, the work began in earnest. As awful as this may sound I started to load my car with the items that I knew I wouldn’t want destroyed if W crashed the rental truck. By mid-afternoon I had pretty well loaded down my car. I told W I had put some things in my car and had it pretty well filled up only to be told that he had one more thing he wanted me to take in my car – his shotgun. I wasn’t thrilled with the idea of having a shotgun on the floor of my car, but figured that the risk of being stopped by the police was small enough that I wasn’t going to overthink too much whether or not a shotgun under the seat would be a concealed weapon or whether or not it was legal to transport it wrapped up in a blanket like W had it. I also had the thought flit across my mind that I hadn’t a clue what I’d do with a shotgun if something did happen to W. I’d just as soon have that gun in the back of the truck if he was going to crash somewhere. (Yes, I know it’s ridiculous and morbid of me to dwell on the possibility of him crashing. I know. So sue me.)
Because we had to be back to my parents’ house in time for dinner, we had to quit packing and loading before everything was packed and loaded. We did manage to take apart the computer desk and get it upstairs piece by piece. However, much of the basement stuff was still there, and still not packed. Taking stock of the situation, I could see that Sunday wasn’t going to be an easy day. We discussed the state of things on the way back to my parents’ house, and decided to forego church with them on Sunday morning (yet again) about which I was not happy. However, I didn’t have a good alternative to suggest so that was that. We determined that we would get up Sunday morning, get an early start and be all loaded and ready to go by the time we had to pick N up at a friend’s house where he spent the weekend.
This is getting long again so I guess you’ll have to wait for Rant – Part III to find out how Sunday actually went, and Monday, and Tuesday, and Oh God I hope it doesn’t go on much longer.
Last weekend, we went one last time to LOH to clean out the house, load up all the stuff that was left behind before, and drag it up to LNJ. Now if all that had been left behind were truly just worthless junk then I would not have hesitated to just throw it all out. However, although we filled three trash cans plus had extra bags filled with trash, there were still a significant number of useful items that I wouldn’t want discarded.
W set out to rent a cargo van. That seemed a reasonable option to me although I was just a wee bit concerned it might not be big enough for all we were taking. The rental company doesn’t rent cargo vans one way, and renting a 10 foot truck one way was cheaper than renting a cargo van round trip so we opted for the 10 foot truck. On Saturday morning, as planned, I dropped W off at the truck rental place, ran a couple of errands, snuck in a phone call to BJ, and then met W back at the house. He arrived in a very large truck which I was to find out later was 15 feet not 10. Apparently, even though he reserved a 10 foot truck, they didn’t have any available so the rented him the 15 foot truck for the 10 foot truck price. Okay, sure, we had a lot of stuff to load but not near enough to fill a 15 foot truck!
Thoughts immediately sped through my head. Thoughts like how are we going to secure the load so it doesn’t just slide around in the back? Thoughts like how can I trust W to drive a truck that big without causing major damage to himself and others? Thoughts like how the fuck did I get myself into this? I did what any good conflict avoider would do and offered to go get lunch for the two of us while he started loading the truck. I soon returned with wraps from a local place we like. After lunch, the work began in earnest. As awful as this may sound I started to load my car with the items that I knew I wouldn’t want destroyed if W crashed the rental truck. By mid-afternoon I had pretty well loaded down my car. I told W I had put some things in my car and had it pretty well filled up only to be told that he had one more thing he wanted me to take in my car – his shotgun. I wasn’t thrilled with the idea of having a shotgun on the floor of my car, but figured that the risk of being stopped by the police was small enough that I wasn’t going to overthink too much whether or not a shotgun under the seat would be a concealed weapon or whether or not it was legal to transport it wrapped up in a blanket like W had it. I also had the thought flit across my mind that I hadn’t a clue what I’d do with a shotgun if something did happen to W. I’d just as soon have that gun in the back of the truck if he was going to crash somewhere. (Yes, I know it’s ridiculous and morbid of me to dwell on the possibility of him crashing. I know. So sue me.)
Because we had to be back to my parents’ house in time for dinner, we had to quit packing and loading before everything was packed and loaded. We did manage to take apart the computer desk and get it upstairs piece by piece. However, much of the basement stuff was still there, and still not packed. Taking stock of the situation, I could see that Sunday wasn’t going to be an easy day. We discussed the state of things on the way back to my parents’ house, and decided to forego church with them on Sunday morning (yet again) about which I was not happy. However, I didn’t have a good alternative to suggest so that was that. We determined that we would get up Sunday morning, get an early start and be all loaded and ready to go by the time we had to pick N up at a friend’s house where he spent the weekend.
This is getting long again so I guess you’ll have to wait for Rant – Part III to find out how Sunday actually went, and Monday, and Tuesday, and Oh God I hope it doesn’t go on much longer.
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
And Now – A Rant, Pt. I
The movers came and moved us two months ago. At the time, W said that a couple of things didn’t get moved. Oh well, I thought, that’s okay because we have to go back to take N to summer camp and pick him up again on two consecutive weekends. We’ll get whatever was left behind then.The first weekend, after dropping N off at the bus for camp on Sunday morning, we headed over to the house. To describe my reaction as shock, disgust, and horror would not be overly dramatic. There were still unpacked items in every closet of every bedroom. The three hallway closets had barely been touched. The pantry in the kitchen was still about half full. A few cabinets and drawers in the kitchen had items in them. The refrigerator had not been emptied. I didn’t even dare look in the basement. I didn’t want to know. Add to this that W at that time was having trouble with one of his legs, using a cane to get around, and not doing very well at that. I had a meltdown, and as I tend to do in such circumstances, I became Supreme Dictator, She With Whom You Must Not Argue. I told W to get whatever he absolutely needed to take home with him that day, and that’s all we were taking at that time. It was obvious to me that there was no way we could haul everything in my little SUV so we would have to rent a truck or at least a cargo van to get everything. I announced that I would take a couple days off the next week to come back down so we could get everything packed and loaded before picking N up from camp. We drove home. We were not happy campers.
Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, I was unable to take time from work that next week so the plan changed. That weekend (this was the weekend BTW when we had the big talk on the drive down), after picking N up from camp on Saturday and celebrating my dad’s birthday that day, we would spend Sunday packing boxes at the house, getting as much ready as we could for a future weekend trip back to load up and haul things up to LNJ. W’s leg was doing some better but not significantly. W tackled the basement while I worked on the main floor. I started at the far end of the house, the bedrooms and worked my way forward. Room by room I boxed things up and brought them out to the family room until the main floor had all been boxed up. In the dining room I had the pile of items to be donated, and those our realtor was going to stop by and pick up for us. In the kitchen I had most everything boxed up or at least set out on the island ready for packing. In the family room I had all the boxes, many boxes, from the remainder of the main floor. With a three hour drive ahead of us we called it quits in the late afternoon, loaded what we could in my car and drove home.
Now, I should have known that the basement was still in disarray. While I went methodically upstairs, room by room, assembling things in a central location I knew that isn’t how W works. That’s one reason we didn’t work in the same area, because it would drive me nuts how he starts one thing, gets distracted, leaves it half done and goes to start something else. I had walked through the basement at one point just to get an idea of the amount of stuff that needed to be hauled out of there. There was a lot. Two storage closets full, plus the office closets and bookcase full of stuff, plus the computer desk, plus a stereo, plus who knows how much else. I shuddered. I focused on the upstairs and tried to ignore the basement. W assured me when we left that he had it all boxed up but a couple of boxes worth of stuff. Against my better judgment I chose to believe him.
Next time on A Rant:
Last weekend and how much fun renting a truck, packing, loading and unloading that truck can be.
Monday, July 23, 2007
Dreams, Perhaps not so Sweet
Within the last few days I’ve had several dreams, vivid dreams, disturbing dreams, dreams that leave me lying in bed in the morning still thinking about them and what they mean.
Twice I have dreamed specifically about taking off my wedding ring and putting it away. I’m very clear on the meaning of that one. I want to make that final break from my marriage, and I want to get it over with. In one of the dreams the focal point was the putting away of the wedding ring. I didn’t just take it off and set it aside. I took it off, carefully placed it in a box and put it away on a high shelf. That is absolutely all I remember about the dream, but it felt very important to me both in the dream and upon waking. In the other dream I took off my wedding ring, but that was not the focal point of the dream. The focal point of that dream was W and me talking about the end of the marriage and working through many of the finer details, one of which, the primary one in fact, being money. When he worked out his expenses vs. his income he would be spending more on a monthly basis than he was receiving, and this naturally was going to be a problem. I was exasperated that once again I was going to have to work out the solution which seemed fairly obvious to me, but which he couldn’t figure out for himself. At that point, the alarm rang and ended the dream but left me with the realization that I am concerned about how he will manage financially on his own. He should be fine by my reckoning, but I wonder if he’ll see it the same.
The other really vivid, and quite disturbing, dream revolved around work. I was at work at my new job, but strangely enough, my old, old, old, old employer (the company that went bankrupt on the west coast) was just across the building, a fairly short walk through the cubicle maze. So I’m trying to work on my new job and am feeling some pressure to get things done a little more quickly than I’m currently managing, when along comes an old coworker, let’s call her Mary, asking if I can come and assist them. First of all, Mary is a woman who in real life just died a few months ago after a short struggle with pancreatic cancer. The second strange thing is that the overwhelming crisis they needed to resolve was the $200 in petty cash. They didn’t know where it was, and they needed me to tell them where it was and how to get to it. It didn’t seem like that big of a deal to me and I said I would stop by as soon as I could and kept working on the new job. Also, I had a cold and was wrapped in a blanket trying to keep warm and wishing I could use a sick day and go home, but had so much to do that I felt the need to stay and do it. I kept working on the new job and finally got to a point where I felt like I could go back to the old job to help out for just a bit. All bundled in my blanket I go over to my old desk. Because nobody else was using my old desk they’d placed an old table on the other side of the aisle from the desk so that it was a really tight squeeze to get in there causing my claustrophobia to act up a bit and further agitate me, not to mention it reminded me of all the weight I've regained that I had worked so hard to lose. I opened the drawer and took out the two keys that would be needed to get the petty cash. The keys were not hidden in any way, and I know I told someone where they were before I left the job. I explained to Mary that the petty cash box was in the safe, and that I no longer remembered the combination to the safe so they would have to wait until another old coworker, let’s call him Joe, was around as he was the only one that knew the combination. Joe was already gone for the day because he worked early hours and it was already a few minutes after 5:00. However, I went ahead and explained to Mary how the first key would be used to get into the specific area of the safe where the lockbox was held, and that the second key opened the lockbox itself. I figured I was finished at that point, but Mary was concerned about how the entry would be made to reflect the transaction. She was trying to describe some multi-step complicated entry, and I said no it is quite simple, just a debit to the bank account and credit to petty cash. I couldn’t figure out why she wanted to make it so complicated when it was really such a simple thing, and I just wanted to go home because of my cold. I also felt overwhelmingly that I wanted to be finished with the old job and just move on with the new one. I awoke absolutely agitated by this dream even though it doesn’t seem that big a deal as I type it out here. It haunted my thoughts much of yesterday though.
I don’t know for sure what all of these dreams mean although I can take pretty good guesses in most instances. I’m hoping that just by addressing them in the light of day, in my conscious mind, that I can release them from the need of filling my nights.
Twice I have dreamed specifically about taking off my wedding ring and putting it away. I’m very clear on the meaning of that one. I want to make that final break from my marriage, and I want to get it over with. In one of the dreams the focal point was the putting away of the wedding ring. I didn’t just take it off and set it aside. I took it off, carefully placed it in a box and put it away on a high shelf. That is absolutely all I remember about the dream, but it felt very important to me both in the dream and upon waking. In the other dream I took off my wedding ring, but that was not the focal point of the dream. The focal point of that dream was W and me talking about the end of the marriage and working through many of the finer details, one of which, the primary one in fact, being money. When he worked out his expenses vs. his income he would be spending more on a monthly basis than he was receiving, and this naturally was going to be a problem. I was exasperated that once again I was going to have to work out the solution which seemed fairly obvious to me, but which he couldn’t figure out for himself. At that point, the alarm rang and ended the dream but left me with the realization that I am concerned about how he will manage financially on his own. He should be fine by my reckoning, but I wonder if he’ll see it the same.
The other really vivid, and quite disturbing, dream revolved around work. I was at work at my new job, but strangely enough, my old, old, old, old employer (the company that went bankrupt on the west coast) was just across the building, a fairly short walk through the cubicle maze. So I’m trying to work on my new job and am feeling some pressure to get things done a little more quickly than I’m currently managing, when along comes an old coworker, let’s call her Mary, asking if I can come and assist them. First of all, Mary is a woman who in real life just died a few months ago after a short struggle with pancreatic cancer. The second strange thing is that the overwhelming crisis they needed to resolve was the $200 in petty cash. They didn’t know where it was, and they needed me to tell them where it was and how to get to it. It didn’t seem like that big of a deal to me and I said I would stop by as soon as I could and kept working on the new job. Also, I had a cold and was wrapped in a blanket trying to keep warm and wishing I could use a sick day and go home, but had so much to do that I felt the need to stay and do it. I kept working on the new job and finally got to a point where I felt like I could go back to the old job to help out for just a bit. All bundled in my blanket I go over to my old desk. Because nobody else was using my old desk they’d placed an old table on the other side of the aisle from the desk so that it was a really tight squeeze to get in there causing my claustrophobia to act up a bit and further agitate me, not to mention it reminded me of all the weight I've regained that I had worked so hard to lose. I opened the drawer and took out the two keys that would be needed to get the petty cash. The keys were not hidden in any way, and I know I told someone where they were before I left the job. I explained to Mary that the petty cash box was in the safe, and that I no longer remembered the combination to the safe so they would have to wait until another old coworker, let’s call him Joe, was around as he was the only one that knew the combination. Joe was already gone for the day because he worked early hours and it was already a few minutes after 5:00. However, I went ahead and explained to Mary how the first key would be used to get into the specific area of the safe where the lockbox was held, and that the second key opened the lockbox itself. I figured I was finished at that point, but Mary was concerned about how the entry would be made to reflect the transaction. She was trying to describe some multi-step complicated entry, and I said no it is quite simple, just a debit to the bank account and credit to petty cash. I couldn’t figure out why she wanted to make it so complicated when it was really such a simple thing, and I just wanted to go home because of my cold. I also felt overwhelmingly that I wanted to be finished with the old job and just move on with the new one. I awoke absolutely agitated by this dream even though it doesn’t seem that big a deal as I type it out here. It haunted my thoughts much of yesterday though.
I don’t know for sure what all of these dreams mean although I can take pretty good guesses in most instances. I’m hoping that just by addressing them in the light of day, in my conscious mind, that I can release them from the need of filling my nights.
So Many Thoughts
So little time.
Will Trueself find time to write a real post today?
Has there been any movement in her situation?
Are things going well, or is she down in the dumps?
What has filled her dreams the last few days?
And what do those dreams mean?
Stay tuned. . .
I can't wait to see what I have to say either!
Friday, July 20, 2007
Another Horoscope
Your sense of truth continues to spur you into action as Mars moves through your sign. The problem, however, is that you could lose patience with the process of change when you disagree with what others are doing. You can see an original solution to an ongoing problem. It's your time to be daring enough to go for what you want.
Yes indeed, it is time to be daring enough to go for what I want. Yes it is indeed.
This is so me!
| You Are a New School Democrat |
 You like partying and politics - and are likely to be young and affluent. You're less religious, traditional, and uptight than most Democrats. Smoking pot, homosexuality, and gambling are all okay in your book. You prefer that the government help people take care of themselves. |
| You Are Incredibly Logical |
 Move over Spock - you're the new master of logic You think rationally, clearly, and quickly. A seasoned problem solver, your mind is like a computer! |
And doesn't that just naturally mean that it is only logical to be a New School Democrat? ;-)
Thursday, July 19, 2007
Yeah, I'm Just the Female Will Ferrell
I'm not sure whether I'm honored or depressed by this little bit of insight.
your humor style:
CLEAN | SPONTANEOUS | LIGHT
Your style's goofy, innocent and feel-good. Perfect for parties and for the dads who chaperone them. You can actually get away with corny jokes, and I bet your sense of humor is a guilty pleasure for your friends. People of your type are often the most approachable and popular people in their circle. Your simple & silly good-naturedness is immediately recognizable, and it sets you apart in this sarcastic world.
PEOPLE LIKE YOU: Will Ferrell - Will Smith
The 3-Variable Funny Test!
- it rules -
If you're interested, try my best friend's best test: The Genghis Khan Genetic Fitness Masterpiece
Sorry no time for a real post today and maybe not until after the weekend. I'm too busy learning SQL Server 2005 Reporting Services, and then it is one last trip to LOH before the sale is finalized to clean out the rest of the junk W didn't deal with when the official move happened. Not that I'm frustrated by that in any way. . .
Your Score: the Ham
(42% dark, 46% spontaneous, 26% vulgar)
CLEAN | SPONTANEOUS | LIGHT
Your style's goofy, innocent and feel-good. Perfect for parties and for the dads who chaperone them. You can actually get away with corny jokes, and I bet your sense of humor is a guilty pleasure for your friends. People of your type are often the most approachable and popular people in their circle. Your simple & silly good-naturedness is immediately recognizable, and it sets you apart in this sarcastic world.
PEOPLE LIKE YOU: Will Ferrell - Will Smith
The 3-Variable Funny Test!
- it rules -
If you're interested, try my best friend's best test: The Genghis Khan Genetic Fitness Masterpiece
| Link: The 3 Variable Funny Test written by jason_bateman on OkCupid, home of the The Dating Persona Test |
Sorry no time for a real post today and maybe not until after the weekend. I'm too busy learning SQL Server 2005 Reporting Services, and then it is one last trip to LOH before the sale is finalized to clean out the rest of the junk W didn't deal with when the official move happened. Not that I'm frustrated by that in any way. . .
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
Back to Perspective
I think I've gotten things back into better perspective today than I had last night.
All is not gloomy. All is not lost. I tend to think so when I'm overly tired and overly stressed, but it ain't that bad. In the light of day, after a night's sleep I can see that what happened last night was not a cave in, but an honest admission that I have been tempted lately to give in and just live with it. Of course, W came back with the standard "I don't want us to stay together if that is just you giving in" line. I then countered that I can't see any other way for me to stay with him. So while I focused last night in my exhaustion on the temptation to cave the reality remains that I didn't cave. Come to think of it one could actually see this whole conversation in a different light, a light of now he knows that for me to stay is for me to resign myself and give up, not that I think I can ever be happy with him again. So maybe there is just a smidge of light at the tunnel after all.
All is not gloomy. All is not lost. I tend to think so when I'm overly tired and overly stressed, but it ain't that bad. In the light of day, after a night's sleep I can see that what happened last night was not a cave in, but an honest admission that I have been tempted lately to give in and just live with it. Of course, W came back with the standard "I don't want us to stay together if that is just you giving in" line. I then countered that I can't see any other way for me to stay with him. So while I focused last night in my exhaustion on the temptation to cave the reality remains that I didn't cave. Come to think of it one could actually see this whole conversation in a different light, a light of now he knows that for me to stay is for me to resign myself and give up, not that I think I can ever be happy with him again. So maybe there is just a smidge of light at the tunnel after all.
Anybody Got a Spare One of These Around?
Yes, that would be a backbone, a spine, the thing that I seem to not have when it comes to dealing with the issues at hand. I caved. . . again. . . I admitted in counseling tonight that I'm tempted to just give up, give in and agree to stay just to keep the peace, just to not hurt W more, just to not have to deal with it anymore by closing my eyes, shutting up and hanging in there.
WHAT THE HELL WAS I THINKING?
WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH ME?
Jello has a firmer backbone than I have.
Back to the deep dark pit of self pity. . .
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
Whole Lotta Nothing
Today's Horoscope:
Oh bother. On first reading, I thought this meant something, but then I looked at it again. This is just one of those horoscopes that when you really break it down doesn't really say anything at all. Kind of like me. . . Ha!
You are less interested now in an exciting romance or a get-rich-quick scheme than you are in creating stability while having fun. Keep in mind that there is no need to give up the finer things in life just because you want to do the right thing. You can certainly get your work done efficiently, while still leaving time for playful enjoyment.
Oh bother. On first reading, I thought this meant something, but then I looked at it again. This is just one of those horoscopes that when you really break it down doesn't really say anything at all. Kind of like me. . . Ha!
Monday, July 16, 2007
Head Close to Exploding
Yes, I feel as though my head is about to explode from the overload this weekend of pressure from W about finding a way to make things work for us.
The biggest problem I see in that is that every single time he asks me what he needs to differently, and I tell him exactly what he would need to do differently, he just gets very, very sad. I think that is because he realizes that he can't, or won't, make the changes that would be required for me to find this relationship to be satisfactory, or even tolerable. Yet he still persists in begging me to stay with him. He does not want to be just friends with me. He wants to be husband and wife. He does not want me to have the freedom to have other relationships with men. But when I tell him that my perception is that all I am to do is to sit around and wait and be there when he wants me or needs me to do something for him, he pouts. He has no dispute for this. He cannot come up with what more he wants from me for I've repeatedly asked. He says he just wants me to be me. No he doesn't. He doesn't want me to be me. He wants me to be the me he holds in his mind. He wants me to be the pushover, the adoring younger woman in awe of the successful older man. Well, that's a falacy if there ever was one. We've lived on my salary since one year into the marriage. He has contributed little in a monetary way to our relationship because most of his retirement income goes back out to his first wife in alimony. Oh sure, he gets his monthly stipend from his mother's trust but that is HIS money to play with. I never even get to know where that money goes or what he spends it on although the evidence is pretty clear that too much goes into get rich quick schemes. The awe has been gone for a long time. I've tried to make this a partnership, but there are too many pieces of ourselves that have become off limits to one another through the years for it to be a partnership. We are two individuals, living individual lives to a great extent, but without the freedom to truly live individual lives.
Sorry for the rambling. It's been a long weekend. . .
The biggest problem I see in that is that every single time he asks me what he needs to differently, and I tell him exactly what he would need to do differently, he just gets very, very sad. I think that is because he realizes that he can't, or won't, make the changes that would be required for me to find this relationship to be satisfactory, or even tolerable. Yet he still persists in begging me to stay with him. He does not want to be just friends with me. He wants to be husband and wife. He does not want me to have the freedom to have other relationships with men. But when I tell him that my perception is that all I am to do is to sit around and wait and be there when he wants me or needs me to do something for him, he pouts. He has no dispute for this. He cannot come up with what more he wants from me for I've repeatedly asked. He says he just wants me to be me. No he doesn't. He doesn't want me to be me. He wants me to be the me he holds in his mind. He wants me to be the pushover, the adoring younger woman in awe of the successful older man. Well, that's a falacy if there ever was one. We've lived on my salary since one year into the marriage. He has contributed little in a monetary way to our relationship because most of his retirement income goes back out to his first wife in alimony. Oh sure, he gets his monthly stipend from his mother's trust but that is HIS money to play with. I never even get to know where that money goes or what he spends it on although the evidence is pretty clear that too much goes into get rich quick schemes. The awe has been gone for a long time. I've tried to make this a partnership, but there are too many pieces of ourselves that have become off limits to one another through the years for it to be a partnership. We are two individuals, living individual lives to a great extent, but without the freedom to truly live individual lives.
Sorry for the rambling. It's been a long weekend. . .
Friday, July 13, 2007
Sometimes Clarity Shines Through
BJ and I talked yesterday and again this morning about the job/move/relationship issues. We both feel a whole lot better about it now.Without sharing too much identifying details, there could be the possibility for him of a position farther away that could be a great job for him for the next couple of years and would allow him to further his education. That education could lead him back here in a capacity that he would much enjoy. This farther away location is but a couple of hours flight from me. Being apart for the next couple of years would give both of us time to work through the ending of our current marriages, spending some time on our own, and could bring us back together at a time when we are more ready to move on than either of us would be if we rebounded into a new marriage too soon after ending the old ones. We would, of course, stay in each others' lives to the extent that we could during the time we remain apart. We would fly to visit one another as often as practical and continue our
Yes, occasionally a little ray of clarity bursts through the clouds, cheers us up, and helps us to continue to move forward step by step, sometimes great leaps forward and other times tiny baby steps.
And just so you know, BJ loves this area as much as I do. He really wants to live here. He really wants to find a job here. It really wouldn't make much sense for me to uproot myself and N when BJ and I both really want to eventually make a home together here. The fact is that there is a very real possibility that at this particular time there is not going to be a suitable job available here for BJ. That fact in and of itself cannot be the driving factor behind me moving again. It wouldn't make sense no matter how strong the love is between BJ and me, and at least from my perspective, the love between us is very very strong. I think we all need to let this unfold as it unfolds and see where things go. If our love is as strong as we think it is then we'll make it through a few years apart. If our love isn't as strong as we think then surely we will learn that in those few years and spare ourselves from each having a second failed marriage.
Oh BTW, happy Friday the 13th!
Ick
Counseling last night. Ick.
I brought up Friday's conversation. W sat silently with his back to me. The counselor asked me to elaborate on what I meant by "treading water." I described it as making no forward progress, and gave concrete examples. Eventually, W did join the conversation but only because the counselor asked him specific questions. At one point, W placed full blame for my dissatisfaction on my desire to stay in communication with J. I almost laughed at that but didn't. I didn't even respond to it. What a simplistic way to look at it. Ignore my dissatisfaction with our relationship, my dissatisfaction with the way he treats N, and focus on J, a man who barely plays any role in my life anymore. Even if he knew about, and focused on, other men with whom I've been this past year he would still not "get" why I need out.
The upshot by the end of the hour was that he was disappointed that I don't want to be with him, but it is clear that we are not going to continue together as a couple. Several times throughout the session I wanted to "make nice" and subjugate my wants and needs to placate W, BUT I DIDN'T. Whenever that thought crept in I would just stay quiet. I examined that thought and asked myself if I would be happier if I gave in or if I stood firm. No matter how hard I tried to imagine that I could make myself happy somehow by placating W and staying, I couldn't. The only reason to back down would be to lessen the immediate tension, but the long-term tension would remain.
We will have another counseling session next Tuesday. I don't know how long it will be before W and I can speak rationally about this situation. He has not spoken one word to me since the end of counseling last night.
I brought up Friday's conversation. W sat silently with his back to me. The counselor asked me to elaborate on what I meant by "treading water." I described it as making no forward progress, and gave concrete examples. Eventually, W did join the conversation but only because the counselor asked him specific questions. At one point, W placed full blame for my dissatisfaction on my desire to stay in communication with J. I almost laughed at that but didn't. I didn't even respond to it. What a simplistic way to look at it. Ignore my dissatisfaction with our relationship, my dissatisfaction with the way he treats N, and focus on J, a man who barely plays any role in my life anymore. Even if he knew about, and focused on, other men with whom I've been this past year he would still not "get" why I need out.
The upshot by the end of the hour was that he was disappointed that I don't want to be with him, but it is clear that we are not going to continue together as a couple. Several times throughout the session I wanted to "make nice" and subjugate my wants and needs to placate W, BUT I DIDN'T. Whenever that thought crept in I would just stay quiet. I examined that thought and asked myself if I would be happier if I gave in or if I stood firm. No matter how hard I tried to imagine that I could make myself happy somehow by placating W and staying, I couldn't. The only reason to back down would be to lessen the immediate tension, but the long-term tension would remain.
We will have another counseling session next Tuesday. I don't know how long it will be before W and I can speak rationally about this situation. He has not spoken one word to me since the end of counseling last night.
Thursday, July 12, 2007
New Thoughts
Well, one of the possibilities that I realized was there but tried to ignore has placed itself squarely in front of me. BJ might not get a job here, or close to here. He might end up living just as far, or farther, from me than he does now.
I've been feeling an odd distance between BJ and me lately that has nothing whatsoever to do with geography. So it has led me to some new thoughts. Maybe the thoughts aren't really new but just bringing forward some thoughts that have been there for a while.
Am I a crutch for BJ to help him do what he needed to do in finally leaving his marriage? From what I know from him of his marriage he definitely needed to get out, probably should have never gotten in to begin with. But somehow he was stuck, unable to make that move. Was the promise of something better waiting for him the thing that was needed to make him make that move? Now that he has had the courage to make that move will I continue to be important enough to him for him to want to spend his life with me?
On the other hand is BJ a crutch for me to help me do what I need to do in finally leaving my marriage? I do believe that I need to get out, that this relationship is sucking the life out of me. But I've been stuck, unable to make that move. Would I be making this move without BJ in the picture?
Hmm, such a quandry. I am so thrilled with my new job here. I love my new house. I love the community. I don't want to ever move away from here. I am comfortable here and feel at home here, having spent much of my childhood in this general area. So what if BJ as a job opportunity of a lifetime hundreds of miles away? I wouldn't want him to pass that up. I also know that I would not move from here. I went through too many jobs that I didn't like to get to my dream job to give it up now that I've got it. BJ deserves to have the same, a job that he loves as much as I love mine.
Where's it all going? I don't have any idea. I do know that no matter how BJ and I as a couple end up, I still need to leave W. I will split from W no matter what is happening with BJ and me. BJ is NOT my reason for leaving W. My unhappiness in the relationship is my reason for leaving W.
I hope BJ is part of my future. I hope somehow he can find a suitable job fairly close to me. I guess part of me wishes I could say that I'd move wherever he does find a job, but that isn't going to happen. I'm happy here. I don't want to move again, and I won't.
I've been feeling an odd distance between BJ and me lately that has nothing whatsoever to do with geography. So it has led me to some new thoughts. Maybe the thoughts aren't really new but just bringing forward some thoughts that have been there for a while.
Am I a crutch for BJ to help him do what he needed to do in finally leaving his marriage? From what I know from him of his marriage he definitely needed to get out, probably should have never gotten in to begin with. But somehow he was stuck, unable to make that move. Was the promise of something better waiting for him the thing that was needed to make him make that move? Now that he has had the courage to make that move will I continue to be important enough to him for him to want to spend his life with me?
On the other hand is BJ a crutch for me to help me do what I need to do in finally leaving my marriage? I do believe that I need to get out, that this relationship is sucking the life out of me. But I've been stuck, unable to make that move. Would I be making this move without BJ in the picture?
Hmm, such a quandry. I am so thrilled with my new job here. I love my new house. I love the community. I don't want to ever move away from here. I am comfortable here and feel at home here, having spent much of my childhood in this general area. So what if BJ as a job opportunity of a lifetime hundreds of miles away? I wouldn't want him to pass that up. I also know that I would not move from here. I went through too many jobs that I didn't like to get to my dream job to give it up now that I've got it. BJ deserves to have the same, a job that he loves as much as I love mine.
Where's it all going? I don't have any idea. I do know that no matter how BJ and I as a couple end up, I still need to leave W. I will split from W no matter what is happening with BJ and me. BJ is NOT my reason for leaving W. My unhappiness in the relationship is my reason for leaving W.
I hope BJ is part of my future. I hope somehow he can find a suitable job fairly close to me. I guess part of me wishes I could say that I'd move wherever he does find a job, but that isn't going to happen. I'm happy here. I don't want to move again, and I won't.
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
All Quiet on the Midwestern Front
- No more talk since Friday about the break up. I was intending to do it last night during our counseling session together, but the counselor called yesterday and had to reschedule us to Thursday. It has become clear to me that W isn't going to bring it up again, so I know it's up to me to keep this thing moving.
- N has been having mystery stomach pains, sometimes severe. The doctor hasn't figured out the problem yet, but is monitoring him. Damn, I hate it when my baby is sick.
- I'm in SQL training the next two days at work. Then three more days next week. I'm gonna turn into a programmer yet. Sheesh, accounting nerd/computer geek. Could I get any more square?
- I've gotten so little sleep between N's pains and my angst over my situation that it's a wonder I'm even still standing. Do you suppose they'll include naptime during the training? No, I don't think so either.
Tuesday, July 10, 2007
Well, I found this fascinating
As I was surfing across cyberspace today I ran across the following article on wikiHow. If you are someone that puts great stock in psychics and the like and don't want your myth destroyed you may not want to read the article. If however, like me you are a skeptic and have always thought it was trickery and had figured out some of their tricks but not as many as you'd like then definitely check it out.
How to Cold ReadNow, of course I would never, ever encourage you to use the techniques outlined, particularly on gullible people with more money than brains. Really, that would be very very wrong.
What the Inkblots Say
Following such a heavy post as yesterday's I thought I'd come back with something a bit lighter. I took a quiz. I love these silly little quizzes. They make great time wasters and diversions when you're trying to avoid realty.
I agree with the outcome of this quiz. It is a fairly good description of me. However, the picture they included with it really creeps me out.
I agree with the outcome of this quiz. It is a fairly good description of me. However, the picture they included with it really creeps me out.
| Laney`s Original Inkblot Test Outcome C - The Scientist. Based on the descriptions you chose, you have quite a unique mind. You are creative, introverted, and find it hard to meet new people. You are constantly looking for new methods and ideas, and find excitement in learning.
|
 Quizzes and Personality Tests |
Monday, July 09, 2007
A Question of Faith
Now that my brain has cleared somewhat from the fog that had overtaken it last week I shall turn my attention to a question that Al asked last week (or was it longer ago than that?). Let's see if I can answer it relatively intelligently.What role does your spirituality play in your life, how does it relate to your sexuality, and how is being spiritual helping you through this trying time.
Spirituality plays a large role in my life, maybe not in the way that a traditional church-going Christian would consider a large role, but to me personally it feels vitally important to me. If I did not have my faith, I would feel utterly lost in the world, and often it is when I lose sight of my faith that I struggle the most with my emotions. I don't participate in tons of church activities. I don't read my Bible every single day. I don't do a lot of the typical religious stuff. I do pray a lot though. I converse with God a lot. I should become more involved in a congregation somewhere, would like to do so, and intend to do so although I will never ever be the uppity holier-than-thou Christian.
In terms of my sexuality, my faith has helped guide my behavior although I have not always adhered to the ideals in which I believe. However, I know that I am human with human frailties. I believe that adultery is sin, and a sin of which I am guilty. Do I feel remorseful for it? Yes I do. Am I going to stop? No, not right now. Now I know a lot of people will disagree, but I believe that the act of betrayal, the going behind W's back, is the more sinful part of the act of adultery rather than the act of sex. Perhaps it is rationalization on my part but I believe that sex in an open relationship if agreed to by both partners is not sinful but merely a sharing of one another with others. Yes, I know adultery is one of the Ten Commandments and therefore so much worse than some other sins. However, who among us can say that we haven't broken one or more of the Commandments? Except my mom of course. She swears that she has never committed a sin since becoming a Christian. I guess she can be one of the first to throw stones at me.
Having faith in God is a huge help to me in this trying time. It is only through my faith that I have made it this well for this long. Without it I would be completely adrift and lost. It has made me think long and hard about the issue of divorce. It has made me really search my heart (as well as seek counsel from more religiously learned people than myself) to come to the place where I can see that divorce is not always the wrong choice or the immoral choice, but it is also something that one does not undertake lightly. I have moved beyond the point of feeling a moral obligation to uphold vows that have already been broken. It is no longer a moral issue to me but rather one of courage, or lack of courage, to take the step. I am a huge people pleaser, and that has been my struggle of late. Obviously I am working on, and sometimes succeeding at, overcoming that struggle.
My faith and beliefs are not really mainstream though they also aren't quite as liberal as some of the more liberal churches. Sometimes I (half-jokingly) say that I should start my own church as that is the only way I'll ever find one that fits my beliefs. Years ago, my dad said that he thinks people find the religion that most closely match their personal beliefs not that a person's religion molds that person's beliefs. To a great extent I think he's right. None of the various churches of various denominations of which I've attended and/or been a member have ever changed my mind on issues of faith. I believe what I believe, and I talk to God about it through prayer. I figure if He and I are good with each other it really doesn't matter if I'm in sync with the rest of the world, or mainstream Christians, or any other group of people.
Boy oh boy. I'll bet I've just opened myself up to criticism from all types of people now, huh? Thanks so much Al. I'll let you help me respond to comments to this post. ;-)
Sunday, July 08, 2007
Beginning of the End
Well, as they say, it is always darkest before the dawn. Looks like dawn is here.
After a week with N at camp, and our beautiful (WARNING: sarcasm) anniversary celebration, and diving into the depths of depression, W and I left on Friday to drive to my parents' house for the weekend so we could pick N up from camp on Saturday. I resigned myself to not having "THE TALK" at least until next week, hopefully during our marrige counseling session on Tuesday evening. The drive was uneventful, with me playing my new CD by Bowling For Soup as we made our way towards the weekend.
We stopped for dinner. As I have been doing for some time now, I brought up our relationship. I asked if he didn't feel like we were just treading water. No, he doesn't feel that way. He mentioned he'd been catching up on my blog (by which he means the other one, the one about which he knows). I asked how much he'd been reading. Very light conversation. Just as dinner arrived, I turned it back to the relationship. I asked him exactly what it is that I do that makes him want to keep me around? Total silence ensued. Not one word was spoken for the remainder of dinner. My kneejerk reaction was to apologize for pushing too hard and try to make nice. HOWEVER, I sat there wordlessly, deciding that to do so would send incorrect signals, that once again I would be too nice and back off of my expressions of my true feelings.
We left the restaurant still having said nothing. We got in the car and I switched to my new Dixie Chicks CD. We rode quietly, the music in the background. My favorite song, "Not Ready to Make Nice" came on. A few phrases into the song W says, "So do you want me to move out?" Again, the kneejerk reaction was to play nice say no and back down. HOWEVER, instead I moved the discussion back to my earlier question. We talked for a bit, and eventually I told him that yes I want him to move out. During the discussion he again brought up my blog and that he realized from some things he read that we needed to call it quits. I asked what specifically led him to that (fearing he'd found this blog). He brought up an entry I had made on my other blog that I didn't even realize would have led him to his conclusion. We talked practicalities for a bit, and as we neared my parents' house we discussed tabling the discussion for the weekend. No need telling my parents until we're more sure of the details of what we're doing. Also, we want to tell N first, and we don't really want to tell him until we have more concrete plans about where W will move and that sort of thing.
There have been no further discussions of the topic. The air was a bit tense between us this weekend, but that's not so unusual so I don't think anyone thought much of it. We did still sleep in the same bed at my parents' house which was rather uncomfortable, but we lived through it.
So we have begun the end of it all. I don't know how quickly or slowly it will all happen. At least it's out there.
I had a really really hard time not smiling a lot this weekend. I am so happy we're going to bring this all to an end.
Whew!
After a week with N at camp, and our beautiful (WARNING: sarcasm) anniversary celebration, and diving into the depths of depression, W and I left on Friday to drive to my parents' house for the weekend so we could pick N up from camp on Saturday. I resigned myself to not having "THE TALK" at least until next week, hopefully during our marrige counseling session on Tuesday evening. The drive was uneventful, with me playing my new CD by Bowling For Soup as we made our way towards the weekend.
We stopped for dinner. As I have been doing for some time now, I brought up our relationship. I asked if he didn't feel like we were just treading water. No, he doesn't feel that way. He mentioned he'd been catching up on my blog (by which he means the other one, the one about which he knows). I asked how much he'd been reading. Very light conversation. Just as dinner arrived, I turned it back to the relationship. I asked him exactly what it is that I do that makes him want to keep me around? Total silence ensued. Not one word was spoken for the remainder of dinner. My kneejerk reaction was to apologize for pushing too hard and try to make nice. HOWEVER, I sat there wordlessly, deciding that to do so would send incorrect signals, that once again I would be too nice and back off of my expressions of my true feelings.
We left the restaurant still having said nothing. We got in the car and I switched to my new Dixie Chicks CD. We rode quietly, the music in the background. My favorite song, "Not Ready to Make Nice" came on. A few phrases into the song W says, "So do you want me to move out?" Again, the kneejerk reaction was to play nice say no and back down. HOWEVER, instead I moved the discussion back to my earlier question. We talked for a bit, and eventually I told him that yes I want him to move out. During the discussion he again brought up my blog and that he realized from some things he read that we needed to call it quits. I asked what specifically led him to that (fearing he'd found this blog). He brought up an entry I had made on my other blog that I didn't even realize would have led him to his conclusion. We talked practicalities for a bit, and as we neared my parents' house we discussed tabling the discussion for the weekend. No need telling my parents until we're more sure of the details of what we're doing. Also, we want to tell N first, and we don't really want to tell him until we have more concrete plans about where W will move and that sort of thing.
There have been no further discussions of the topic. The air was a bit tense between us this weekend, but that's not so unusual so I don't think anyone thought much of it. We did still sleep in the same bed at my parents' house which was rather uncomfortable, but we lived through it.
So we have begun the end of it all. I don't know how quickly or slowly it will all happen. At least it's out there.
I had a really really hard time not smiling a lot this weekend. I am so happy we're going to bring this all to an end.
Whew!
Friday, July 06, 2007
Just Because I Need a Laugh
Two Ways to Look at Everything
My wife and I were sitting at a table at my high school reunion, and I kept staring at a drunken lady swigging her drink as she sat alone at a nearby table.
My wife asked, "Do you know her?"
"Yes," I sighed, "She's my old girlfriend. I understand she took to drinking right after we split up those many years ago,and I hear she hasn't been sober since."
"My God!" says my wife, "Who would think a person could go on celebrating that long?"
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And in other news, you've no doubt noticed that I've not been responding to comments lately. At first, I just wasn't reading them. Didn't want to know what anyone had to say. Finally, last night after a mighty fine Top Shelf Margarita at dinner I did read them but was a bit too drunk (yes, that's all it took to get me drunk enough for a hangover this morning) to respond to them in any coherent way. As a matter of fact, I should probably go back and read them sober. Now I will be away for the weekend, in the land of the Luddites (aka my parents' house) where there is no internet so I may not get around to responding to your comments. It doesn't mean that I don't appreciate your comments. I do. Please, keep commenting. Eventually, I'll straighten up enough to respond to them again.
---------------------------------------------------
Oh, and one more thing. I just had to remind myself that I already have the speech all laid out for the big talk, right here. Duh. Why didn't I go back and reread this a couple of days ago? Gotta keep reminding myself. Gotta stay focused. Gotta channel my inner supreme hard ass bitch. Gotta do this. . .
My wife and I were sitting at a table at my high school reunion, and I kept staring at a drunken lady swigging her drink as she sat alone at a nearby table.
My wife asked, "Do you know her?"
"Yes," I sighed, "She's my old girlfriend. I understand she took to drinking right after we split up those many years ago,and I hear she hasn't been sober since."
"My God!" says my wife, "Who would think a person could go on celebrating that long?"
--------------------------------------------------
And in other news, you've no doubt noticed that I've not been responding to comments lately. At first, I just wasn't reading them. Didn't want to know what anyone had to say. Finally, last night after a mighty fine Top Shelf Margarita at dinner I did read them but was a bit too drunk (yes, that's all it took to get me drunk enough for a hangover this morning) to respond to them in any coherent way. As a matter of fact, I should probably go back and read them sober. Now I will be away for the weekend, in the land of the Luddites (aka my parents' house) where there is no internet so I may not get around to responding to your comments. It doesn't mean that I don't appreciate your comments. I do. Please, keep commenting. Eventually, I'll straighten up enough to respond to them again.
---------------------------------------------------
Oh, and one more thing. I just had to remind myself that I already have the speech all laid out for the big talk, right here. Duh. Why didn't I go back and reread this a couple of days ago? Gotta keep reminding myself. Gotta stay focused. Gotta channel my inner supreme hard ass bitch. Gotta do this. . .
Thursday, July 05, 2007
We Do Not Talk
Why does he want me here?
What does he get from this relationship?
I sit in one room.
He sits in another.
We do not talk.
What connections are left?
We share a son.
We disagree on how to raise him.
We’ve given up persuading one another to our points of view.
We do not talk.
Where is our common ground?
About what do we agree?
I want to pay off the house.
He wants to invest and keep the mortgage.
We do not talk.
What is in this for him?
Does he want my paycheck?
Does he want my presence?
What is it that he wants?
We do not talk.
Why does he beg me to stay?
Why is staying good enough?
Even though I stay I am not his.
Even though I stay there is no connection.
We do not talk.
How do I move on?
Why do I feel I must persuade him that it is best for all?
I need to do things for me.
I need to break free.
We do not talk.
What does he get from this relationship?
I sit in one room.
He sits in another.
We do not talk.
What connections are left?
We share a son.
We disagree on how to raise him.
We’ve given up persuading one another to our points of view.
We do not talk.
Where is our common ground?
About what do we agree?
I want to pay off the house.
He wants to invest and keep the mortgage.
We do not talk.
What is in this for him?
Does he want my paycheck?
Does he want my presence?
What is it that he wants?
We do not talk.
Why does he beg me to stay?
Why is staying good enough?
Even though I stay I am not his.
Even though I stay there is no connection.
We do not talk.
How do I move on?
Why do I feel I must persuade him that it is best for all?
I need to do things for me.
I need to break free.
We do not talk.
What's Stopping Me?
From divorcing/separating from W
The overwhelming feeling that I will be devastating him (because he has told me this over and over and over) by leaving him and the fear of not being able to bear the guilt of that.
I still care enough to want him to be okay even if I don't want the responsibility of making sure that he is okay.
From suicide
N needs me.
Being the total screw up that I am, I would end up not dead but in interminable pain.
There's just something a bit too final about it.
As a kid when I felt this overwhelmed I used to go sit in my closet with the lights off with my knees pulled up to my chin, hugging my legs to me, curled in the tightest ball I could form. As an adult, I don't have that luxury. I'm at work, sitting in my cubicle, feeling so sick to my stomach I feel like I could vomit at any moment. I am devastatingly disappointed in myself and my failure yesterday. . .
The overwhelming feeling that I will be devastating him (because he has told me this over and over and over) by leaving him and the fear of not being able to bear the guilt of that.
I still care enough to want him to be okay even if I don't want the responsibility of making sure that he is okay.
From suicide
N needs me.
Being the total screw up that I am, I would end up not dead but in interminable pain.
There's just something a bit too final about it.
As a kid when I felt this overwhelmed I used to go sit in my closet with the lights off with my knees pulled up to my chin, hugging my legs to me, curled in the tightest ball I could form. As an adult, I don't have that luxury. I'm at work, sitting in my cubicle, feeling so sick to my stomach I feel like I could vomit at any moment. I am devastatingly disappointed in myself and my failure yesterday. . .
No, I Won't Do It
I'm not about to kill myself.
But it does seem like that would be the only way out here.
Guess I'm stuck.
But it does seem like that would be the only way out here.
Guess I'm stuck.
Wednesday, July 04, 2007
Couldn't Do It
I am a failure.
I am too weak to escape my hell here on earth.
The black hole of depression is swallowing me again.
Is suicide the only escape?
I am too weak to escape my hell here on earth.
The black hole of depression is swallowing me again.
Is suicide the only escape?
Independence Day
Nineteen years ago today W and I were married. For those that don't know the story and don't have access to my other blog, here's the Cliff's Notes version:Once W’s divorce from his first wife was final, he was ready to marry me. He proposed. I declined. Over the next couple of months we repeated this procedure a few more times. W then stopped proposing. Being insecure and afraid I might have lost my only chance at wedded bliss I proposed by suggesting getting married the very next weekend. W, who had all but given up on me ever agreeing to get married, wasn’t about to turn down the chance to snag me permanently and said yes.
The following weekend was a three day weekend as July 4 fell on a Monday that year. We took the train on Sunday morning up to Reno. We were married in a small cheesy chapel at midnight on July 4. We were married. We spent the night in a hotel in Reno, but no sex was had that night. Perhaps I should have seen that as a sign. On Monday morning, we rode the train home. W went to work the next day. Life went on just as it had before.
If you do have access to my other blog (email me if you'd like access but don't have it) you can see the full post here with all the gory and humorous detail.
Nineteen years. We've had good times. We've had bad times. We've had misunderstandings and disagreements aplenty. We have not had good resolutions to most of our misunderstandings and disagreements. As I matured I grew out of the young go-with-the-flow-and-accept-and-adopt-his-position-on-all-things person that I was when he and I met. As he aged, he became more bitter and angry.
I checked the marriage license for an expiration date but no luck. Apparently, even in Nevada they don't make it that easy for you.
There seems to be a certain synergy in ending a marriage on the same day it began. It also seems that Independence Day lends itself more to being the day someone would declare their independence from a marriage rather than for getting married. Anyway, I'm leaning towards having "the big talk" tonight at dinner. My hands are clammy just typing this, and my heart is pounding. I don't know if I can go through with it or not.
Just remember, this year not all the fireworks on the Fourth of July may be happy ones. Think of me and W as you watch those fireworks tonight. The sounds you hear may be covering the screaming and wailing.
Like the Dixie Chicks, I am not ready to give up. I'm not ready to give in. I will not make nice with W anymore.
Tuesday, July 03, 2007
Answers
With the overwhelming deluge of questions coming my way (can you sense the sarcasm here?), I picked and chose and finally decided to answer all three of them. ;-)
Question #1
Thanks Serenity for this question, a two-parter but really one question I think.
What if leaving W means you will be alone?
If leaving W means I will be alone then I will learn how to be on my own, and that might be the very best thing for me. It would give me the chance to prove to myself that I can indeed handle being an adult, a parent, a fully functioning human being.
Are you comfortable with that thought or does your post-future imagined world always include BJ?
Although my post-future imagined world does include BJ, I have given thought to the possibility that it won't include BJ. I have to include that in my thinking because there are myriad things that could stand in our way of being together: BJ not finding a job here, his kids hating me or N hating BJ enough that we can't be together in a permanent kind of way, BJ getting tired of waiting for me, on and on. Yes, I have thought of all these things, and although I am hoping, very strongly hoping, that things will work out for BJ and me I do recognize that it isn't a certainty.
Question #2
Thanks to Freebird for this one.
Some time ago, before you moved into your temporary accommodation, you expressed concerns about the practical problems you might encounter living on your own. Having actually spent some time in your own place, how do you feel about those fears now?
I still have my occasional doubts. However, that time alone helped me a lot, and gave me the confidence that I can indeed handle the practical problems even if I'm not thrilled about doing it. I learned that I can even fight against the dreaded phone phobia when I must. While I'm not completely comfortable with my competence to handle certain things, I am much more confident that I CAN if I MUST so it isn't quite as scary to split from W.
Question #3
Thanks to Finished Last for this less intense question.
Where would you like to go on vacation someday and why?
I've got two answers for this one.
The first answer is Paris because BJ wants to go there. Although Paris was never high on my list of places to visit BJ dreams of going there and so I know I would enjoy it because I would enjoy watching the sparkle in his eyes as he visits there.
The second answer is Puerto Rico. I've been there before, and it is a beautiful island. For me it is just the right combination of exotic and familiar, enough U.S. to make me comfortable and enough tropical paradise to make me feel like it is another world. I love the old architecture in San Juan, the beaches, the weather, the whole thing. I can't think of anything I didn't love about Puerto Rico. (No, they don't pay me to advertise for them, but maybe they should, eh?)
Monday, July 02, 2007
New Shoes
Whadya' think?Not counting the raggedy ass way my feet look.
Maybe I oughta consider a pedicure if I'm gonna wear sandals all summer.
And yes, I AM going to wear sandals all summer. It's the closest thing to barefoot I can get away with in most places.
And people, there's still time to get your questions in to me for my tell-all-answer-anything post that I'll be doing in a day or two. Maybe on Wednesday, Independence Day, which by the way is an oxymoron of a day to get married, but could end up being a good day to regain one's independence.
Sorry, meandering from the purpose of this post which was just to show you my new shoes. This, my friends, has been the biggest crisis of the summer, having to find new black sandals after the old ones fell apart. After all, how can one properly address other issues like divorce and parenting when one hasn't any black sandals to wear? Gasp!
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