it would be nice to have a day that wasn't classified as rough.
but i think that might take a while.
i feel like i'm constantly two seconds from a panic attack.
i feel like i'm talking myself down all day, every day.
i feel like i can't stop thinking.
and it's not even productive logical thinking. it's brain-consuming wasteful worrying.
and if i'd been worrying about the right things, i wouldn't have gotten a parking ticket.
if i was thinking, i wouldn't have had to make two trips to work today.
'if you weren't thinking, you wouldn't have thought that.'
maybe i'll watch the sandlot with my parents on sunday. that would be nice.
the gang's all here. aubree is off with her team, but mom and dad got in tonight. we had dinner at no gringos. i hadn't been there since before valentine's day, when we split up.
i feel like the waitress was probably wondering why my husband wasn't with us.
but that is neither here nor there.
it seems like i can't stop thinking about how he is processing all of this.
i sent him an email last night, detailing the info from the lawyer. and he hasn't responded yet, which is precisely what i expected.
and i'm afraid that when he does, it will be with a lawyer's advice. i figure if nothing else, he'll know someone who has a friend who will help him on his end.
i don't know. i guess mostly i think about what i know, and i worry about what i don't.
i found out today that despite his bragging about paying the mortgage early and on time, that after that one time that he did, this month he didn't.
he paid it on the third.
and the ways that this bit of information affects me are pretty complicated.
i think he did what i did. i think he was banking on the tax return money being there, and spent too much. just like i did.
and then i think he didn't have it.
until two days after it was due.
but the thing is, if he's already pushing it, the future will only get harder.
i feel like i can't judge him for making the same mistake that i did. but i also feel like he probably has a much better understanding of what it takes to do it. after that first easy month.
which must be why the mystery person moved in.
it must be humbling for him.
and i'm considerate enough to not rub it in his face. but i made a mental note.
and worse, i have to babysit the mortgage account so our house doesn't get foreclosed upon.
and it makes my email have more weight to it now, because i talked about him paying the mortgage on time and that the house goes on the market if he breeches the contract we'll have to set up.
i don't know. i liked not worrying about it. i liked thinking that he was so proud of handling it all.
and i can rest easy knowing that he isn't fucking up my credit. the house is the only thing he is responsible for that has my name on it.
i asked him if he wanted to see my family, if only to say hi. they did show interest in seeing him. more for him than for them, but it is there.
and it will be interesting to see what he does. if he just avoids me until they leave town.
or whatever.
my dad started to get fired up about the lawyer's advice. about the business, mostly. but i made them change the subject because i was driving and fighting tears and i'm so saturated, i just can't take it. and i can't take hearing what they think on top of what i think and what the lawyer thinks and what i think he thinks.
too much thinking.
but having them here pushed me to get the apartment as settled as i could. i could not have done it without my sister. i have said probably ten times that if she wasn't here, i would have just been crying in bed and not doing anything because it is all so overwhelming.
what is funnier is that i needed to be managed.
like a little fledgeling divorcee.
i liked things when they were in vacation mode at my-your apartment. when i had spare time and was writing and reading and doing things i never made time for because i was too busy tending to him and his needs. it was a retreat.
and how aptly i named it my halfway house, that now it is back to reality.
the safe bubble has burst. the easy part is over now.
too bad i couldn't be in this apartment for the easy part.
because i don't want this place to be associated with the hard part.
and it already is.
i was laying in bed last night. wide awake, as per the recent usual. it was probably about three am. and i was staring at the foreign ceiling above my bed. and i just thought, 'how did i end up here?'
and it killed me.
at the precise moment i thought it, that same song that made me cry the other day came on. and i lost it again.
njosnavelin is the new heysatan.
every. single. time.
and i thought, 'but i am afraid. i came through the light, and i AM afraid'. the opposite sentiment of what the song imparts.
and not in the girly, insecure kind of a way. where i feel like i need protection.
i am afraid of what the next six months will be like. i am afraid of what my life is going to be when my family leaves and it is just me. again.
last night when i was still working on this place, i was listening to my workout mix. and i was screaming along to black eyes. i hate that they broke up after only one album. they were fucking AMAZING. the whole album is solid. really great when you're angry.
but i had the overwhelming desire to go the gym. if i hadn't already made plans with kit to go to the bar for cinco de mayo at eight, i would have gone right then, while i had the urge.
i feel it coming.
when the dust settles, i'm going to get back into it.
i'm going to drag either kit or rob with me, because i can usually only stick to going every day if there is someone to hold me accoutable.
i'm ready. when i'm angry, it helps almost as much as screaming at the top of my lungs.
something else happened yesterday.
the girl who was the maid of honor at our wedding tagged us in our wedding pictures, which i hid from my albums right after i moved out of the house.
i have a lot of issues to resolve with her, and most of the time i think it is a waste of time.
i didn't talk to her over the last seven years.
before that, she was my best friend, via telephone for many years.
then, right after our wedding, i forgot her birthday.
and she never spoke to me again.
it was awful. at the time we got married, she lived eight states away, but she was my best friend.
and then it was over. she dropped me faster than i thought she could.
and since then, we reconnected. before the house. it was a fluke. her email account got hacked. and i'd been having dreams with her in them for about a month before that.
so when i got the email that i knew was spam, i emailed her back one morning upon waking.
and we talked over email. saying that we'd always thought about each other, and that despite not ever trying to talk to me, she still referred to me as her best friend.
and one day in the house, she called me. and we talked and both apologized for stopping the talking. and had a cry because we both dicked out on each other. i hear marianne hawthorne saying 'that's her best friend' in my mind. from harriet, when she's reading the part in her journal to the kids, and her tone is so sad.
but every time i called her after that, she never answered. and she would say in text or in email that she would call me. but she never did.
and so i never told her about our problems.
and i never told her that we split.
and then i got home from cinco de mayo beers, and i'm staring myself down in black and white photographs.
white dress and all. flowers. ever in a suit. the wedding party. an expecting nina and my teenage sister. with the guy who married us. who has since gone to jail for getting caught with crack. he was ever's boss at the time. and his life since then has completely derailed.
what a fucking MESS.
it was not what i was expecting.
i've been schlepping around the wedding photo books since i left. obviously, i haven't wanted to see them.
and it sucks. i was smiling. i must have been happy then.
it was so long ago. and i look so young.
and i was so foolish.
what was i thinking?
i'm going to get about a four hour nap tonight.
tomorrow is going to blow.
i have a catering and i have to wake up at five am.
i'm wide awake. because this is my new sleep schedule. staying up until three am every night.
and i'm on the couch, because i gave my parents my bed.
and it's tiny. and i'm going to feel ill tomorrow.
but everything is going to be okay.
mom's three hugs and dad's two hugs already made things a little bit easier.
when my mom hugs me, i just go back to being the scared little kid i was all those years ago.
crying in my mom's arms. scared from the nightmare i was having.
only now i'm twice as big, and the nightmare is my waking life.
it was funny, when i was tucking them in, mom asked if i wanted to crawl into bed and sleep with them. because they'd make room for me.
i told them they should just have sex in my bed, since i won't be using it for that for a while. that someone should enjoy it...
it was nice to have a laugh after my awful day.
i've made a huge mistake.
four dollars a month. i just have to keep reminding myself.
four dollars a month. and when this is all behind me, i will feel so much better. i just want it to be over quickly and painlessly, and that is not going to happen.
'if i ever feel better'
weirdest video, or one of. but that song is so good for me. in my mind, i'm building my spring mix. it's gonna be kickass. i keep thinking of songs and forgetting. maybe i'll put it on here until i have a computer that can build mixes again. in no particular order, i cannot forget:
1. if i ever feel better - phoenix
2. gorgeous thing - thao nguyen
3. chemo limo - regina spektor
4. njosnavelin - sigur ros
5. walters - pinback (i know... it was on winter, but it is stuck on me)
6. vaka - sigur ros (for good measure)
7. when we swam - thao & the get down stay down
8. beat - thao & the get down stay down
9. (track 6) - ida
tonight would have been a three beer night. i'd have settled for two because i have to be up early, and cannot wake up feeling worse than just sleep deprived. but because of the parents, i just had a couple sips of wine. glug glug straight out of the bottle.
and a bunch of water.
i have to try to sleep.
manic mode continues. i feel like i could go on writing forever. working things out. processing via little clicking white keys.
like everything else, it's short lived.
being an adult sucks.
and you never understand when you're nineteen. and everyone is telling you 'these are the best years of your life, enjoy them'.
you never understand how right they are.
until they are behind you. and then you're the one telling the nineteen year olds. and they're floating on, not paying a bit of attention to the crazy 'old' person.
my sister is in that part of her life now. she walks around with about three or four hours of sleep under her belt, on average. i miss those days.
some days lately, i walk around feeling like i just dropped acid. like right now. and like i will tomorrow.
tonight i spent a full five minutes looking for my phone in my bag. i was talking to my sister. on it.
right now, sleeping in the bathtub sounds like a good idea. empty, of course. i don't have a death wish. but just stretching out in it. if i could somehow still float, that would be sweet.
it was a horrible day.
i feel like i've had about all i can take. and now i also feel unlucky. and that is a toxic combination. i keep making five second decisions that have lasting effects. and they're expensive.
i was begging aloud today. i'd say praying, but i really don't pray.
'please please please, no...'
'please please please, let this work.'
about a few different things i was trying to accomplish.
only one worked.
and i can't help but to feel like i'm about to start getting my paybacks for fucking up ever's life, and mine as a result.
i need to work on my guilt issues.
but more than that, i need to try to go to sleep. now.
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