CLUNK CLUNK
I have had the most horrendous day. I just have. Allow me to lay it all out and then whine a bit. Oh, wait, this is mostly for me, so I get to and you can simply go away if you don't want to hear it. Let's begin at the beginning of the day, shall we?
Usually, I'm a terrible mother. I wake up after the two older kids are gone to school in time to get the youngest up and ready. But this week, my youngest daughter has decided that I should be Mom of the Year. She had the "8th grade test" this week and so I had to get up and make her breakfast. One day. But the rest of the week, she has brought me coffee in bed, so that I'd leave the house at seven in the morning and drive her the four blocks to school. Because it's cold out. In October. And me? I've done it. I've driven her the four blocks. Because she made and brought me coffee in bed and woke me up with a kiss on the cheek. I can't resist.
The other two went to school. I took myself over to my friends house and worked with him on an appraisal. Then I went and took some photos for a different appraisal and lost it completely.
What Do I Think I Am...TOUGH?
I went home. I called Mr. Boyfriend and asked if I could stop by if I needed to. Contingency plans, you know. I picked up my cat and took him to the Humane Association. It was the worst thing EVER. I've had this cat for eight years. He was an apology from my ex for the first major affair. His name is Tiger. He's nine. He's a medium haired tabby with an arrogant male attitude that I love. But he has the whole urinary tract deal that male cats get. That's not so bad, special food and he's ok. But for years he has occasionally urinated on the carpeting. Lately it's been nearly all the time and where ever he felt like it. Never in bedrooms, though, I will give him that. His downfall was when he decided to try the dining room corner.
I've known for a while that I was going to have to give him up. Like, you know, the last two years. I just couldn't face doing it. But I was getting so I hated my house. It smells bad, and therefore, half the time I don't want to clean it because I can't ever make it smell clean. So I made this appointment a month ago.
I drove to the Humane Association dry eyed. He talked to me the whole way. I talked back, feeling horribly guilty. I drove by the building, thinking maybe I could just keep on going. But I couldn't. I turned around and turned in the driveway.
They took him from me almost right away. I kissed him goodbye and started crying. What a wuss I am, I'm crying now. I filled out the paperwork, said thank you and left.
On the way to Mr. Boyfriends house (who, I might add, is still only a friend) my brothers wife called. My brother has taken something like $42,000 and gone missing. $17,000 is in cash. I hope he's in Mexico and sends me a ticket to come join him. My brother is another story for another day... Needless to say, this phone call distracted me from my Tiger grief. With me, that's not always a good thing. It'll turn into the whole kitchen sink thing and I'll hope it's fixed even though there is no way it can be. If you know what I mean.
I arrive at Mr. Boyfriends house. He distracts me with rousing debates about men and women for two hours. I leave irritated with him.
I run my child all over the city to find a Halloween Costume because some stupid-head principal decided that the kids should dress up on Friday instead of on Halloween. These are middle schoolers. They know what day Halloween is actually on. Not to mention, I was really looking forward to having the rest of the weekend to finish the whole costume situation.
Mr. Boyfriend calls and offers to come over and fix a few things.
Holy $&@#$ Batman!!
Clunk Clunk Is A Bad Sound
I'm home briefly and Mr. Boyfriend arrives. He stays outside. This is good because my house is very, very dirty and messy right now and I want NO ONE to see it. Tomorrow I will have time to deal with it - today I simply do not. I probably seem rude. Which is worse: seeming rude or him seeing my house today? Him seeing my house today. Seriously. It's that bad. And it smells.
I don't have time to wonder why he's here. I can't figure out his motivation. I don't know why he's offered. I only know that I appreciate it. I point him toward the weed wacker and the mulcher. I get in my car and take my oldest to her concert so she can do whatever it is they do an hour before it actually begins.
When I come back, he asks me when the last time I changed the spark plug in my weed wacker was. My weed wacker has a spark plug? He changes it, it runs, he's terrific. He begins work on the mulcher as I'm piling the other two children in my car and leaving to go to the actual concert. I point out the oil is low. I look at the dip stick. It's really low. Hhhmm. He adds oil. As I'm getting into my car I tell him it made a clunk clunk noise before I turned it off (because of the neighbors and all). He gave me an alarmed look. Clunk Clunk is apparently a bad noise.
I drive away, assured that he will close the garage door. I feel a little weird about leaving him there. I'm very protective of my messes. He's already asked me if I needed that pile of mail on the garage floor. I didn't. It was a month old and I'd already paid the garbage bill, etc. My mother asked me the same thing a couple of weeks ago. The garage is one of my big projects. I had the damn thing done, but then the ex wanted the last of his things and I tore through it looking for stuff. I never put it back. Yet, anyway. Then I quit my job and the boxes from my office only made it as far as the garage. And my house is icky. I really don't want to be reminded of how much I have to do.
Oh, Cool, It's the Former In-Laws
We go to the concert and oh! there's my former father-in-law. I love this guy but I really don't want to see him - it's just a reminder of all that's lost. My niece is there. I adore her. I ask where her parents are and she tells me they are camping with my ex and his little honey pie. I'm careful to keep my expression neutral for everyone else's sake.
I leave the auditorium. I call Mr. Boyfriend and ask how the mulcher is going. The clunk clunk noise was probably the engine being blown. At this point, all I can think is...oops.
I am so raw from having given up my cat, that dealing with these people throwing me over for that complete bimbo is too much. I knew it was coming. I did. But it is just too much loss all at once. I'm a ball of hurt. It's the first time in a long time that I feel this much pure hurt. I'm aware of it, I just want to get away from everyone.
I finish the concert, take the kids for ice cream, put my son to bed, call Mr. Boyfriend and thank him again - he's weird and a little, almost stand-offish at this point, and get BACK in my car and take the Halloween Costume kid to Wal-Mart to buy a different costume because we got the other one home and it did not fit. She must have it tomorrow due to stupid-head principal.
When we arrive home, she goes right to bed and the oldest child wants to talk. Oh, and did I mention, that this entire evening, the children have been just a little TOUCHY because their cat went away today? And the oldest blames me, of course. As well she should - I took him where he went.
Some Days Are Just Like That
It's been a bad day. Since noon I've been waiting for the moment that I could crawl in bed, in the hopes that tomorrow would be better. Instead, here I am.
Here is a list of things I've been meaning to write down:
Usually, I'm a terrible mother. I wake up after the two older kids are gone to school in time to get the youngest up and ready. But this week, my youngest daughter has decided that I should be Mom of the Year. She had the "8th grade test" this week and so I had to get up and make her breakfast. One day. But the rest of the week, she has brought me coffee in bed, so that I'd leave the house at seven in the morning and drive her the four blocks to school. Because it's cold out. In October. And me? I've done it. I've driven her the four blocks. Because she made and brought me coffee in bed and woke me up with a kiss on the cheek. I can't resist.
The other two went to school. I took myself over to my friends house and worked with him on an appraisal. Then I went and took some photos for a different appraisal and lost it completely.
What Do I Think I Am...TOUGH?
I went home. I called Mr. Boyfriend and asked if I could stop by if I needed to. Contingency plans, you know. I picked up my cat and took him to the Humane Association. It was the worst thing EVER. I've had this cat for eight years. He was an apology from my ex for the first major affair. His name is Tiger. He's nine. He's a medium haired tabby with an arrogant male attitude that I love. But he has the whole urinary tract deal that male cats get. That's not so bad, special food and he's ok. But for years he has occasionally urinated on the carpeting. Lately it's been nearly all the time and where ever he felt like it. Never in bedrooms, though, I will give him that. His downfall was when he decided to try the dining room corner.
I've known for a while that I was going to have to give him up. Like, you know, the last two years. I just couldn't face doing it. But I was getting so I hated my house. It smells bad, and therefore, half the time I don't want to clean it because I can't ever make it smell clean. So I made this appointment a month ago.
I drove to the Humane Association dry eyed. He talked to me the whole way. I talked back, feeling horribly guilty. I drove by the building, thinking maybe I could just keep on going. But I couldn't. I turned around and turned in the driveway.
They took him from me almost right away. I kissed him goodbye and started crying. What a wuss I am, I'm crying now. I filled out the paperwork, said thank you and left.
On the way to Mr. Boyfriends house (who, I might add, is still only a friend) my brothers wife called. My brother has taken something like $42,000 and gone missing. $17,000 is in cash. I hope he's in Mexico and sends me a ticket to come join him. My brother is another story for another day... Needless to say, this phone call distracted me from my Tiger grief. With me, that's not always a good thing. It'll turn into the whole kitchen sink thing and I'll hope it's fixed even though there is no way it can be. If you know what I mean.
I arrive at Mr. Boyfriends house. He distracts me with rousing debates about men and women for two hours. I leave irritated with him.
I run my child all over the city to find a Halloween Costume because some stupid-head principal decided that the kids should dress up on Friday instead of on Halloween. These are middle schoolers. They know what day Halloween is actually on. Not to mention, I was really looking forward to having the rest of the weekend to finish the whole costume situation.
Mr. Boyfriend calls and offers to come over and fix a few things.
Holy $&@#$ Batman!!
Clunk Clunk Is A Bad Sound
I'm home briefly and Mr. Boyfriend arrives. He stays outside. This is good because my house is very, very dirty and messy right now and I want NO ONE to see it. Tomorrow I will have time to deal with it - today I simply do not. I probably seem rude. Which is worse: seeming rude or him seeing my house today? Him seeing my house today. Seriously. It's that bad. And it smells.
I don't have time to wonder why he's here. I can't figure out his motivation. I don't know why he's offered. I only know that I appreciate it. I point him toward the weed wacker and the mulcher. I get in my car and take my oldest to her concert so she can do whatever it is they do an hour before it actually begins.
When I come back, he asks me when the last time I changed the spark plug in my weed wacker was. My weed wacker has a spark plug? He changes it, it runs, he's terrific. He begins work on the mulcher as I'm piling the other two children in my car and leaving to go to the actual concert. I point out the oil is low. I look at the dip stick. It's really low. Hhhmm. He adds oil. As I'm getting into my car I tell him it made a clunk clunk noise before I turned it off (because of the neighbors and all). He gave me an alarmed look. Clunk Clunk is apparently a bad noise.
I drive away, assured that he will close the garage door. I feel a little weird about leaving him there. I'm very protective of my messes. He's already asked me if I needed that pile of mail on the garage floor. I didn't. It was a month old and I'd already paid the garbage bill, etc. My mother asked me the same thing a couple of weeks ago. The garage is one of my big projects. I had the damn thing done, but then the ex wanted the last of his things and I tore through it looking for stuff. I never put it back. Yet, anyway. Then I quit my job and the boxes from my office only made it as far as the garage. And my house is icky. I really don't want to be reminded of how much I have to do.
Oh, Cool, It's the Former In-Laws
We go to the concert and oh! there's my former father-in-law. I love this guy but I really don't want to see him - it's just a reminder of all that's lost. My niece is there. I adore her. I ask where her parents are and she tells me they are camping with my ex and his little honey pie. I'm careful to keep my expression neutral for everyone else's sake.
I leave the auditorium. I call Mr. Boyfriend and ask how the mulcher is going. The clunk clunk noise was probably the engine being blown. At this point, all I can think is...oops.
I am so raw from having given up my cat, that dealing with these people throwing me over for that complete bimbo is too much. I knew it was coming. I did. But it is just too much loss all at once. I'm a ball of hurt. It's the first time in a long time that I feel this much pure hurt. I'm aware of it, I just want to get away from everyone.
I finish the concert, take the kids for ice cream, put my son to bed, call Mr. Boyfriend and thank him again - he's weird and a little, almost stand-offish at this point, and get BACK in my car and take the Halloween Costume kid to Wal-Mart to buy a different costume because we got the other one home and it did not fit. She must have it tomorrow due to stupid-head principal.
When we arrive home, she goes right to bed and the oldest child wants to talk. Oh, and did I mention, that this entire evening, the children have been just a little TOUCHY because their cat went away today? And the oldest blames me, of course. As well she should - I took him where he went.
Some Days Are Just Like That
It's been a bad day. Since noon I've been waiting for the moment that I could crawl in bed, in the hopes that tomorrow would be better. Instead, here I am.
Here is a list of things I've been meaning to write down:
- I'm wondering if Mr. Boyfriend somehow has the web address for my blog. Wouldn't that be interesting?
- I've realized that the reason I stayed with the ex for so long is (drum roll) because I loved him. All the other garbage existed and was real, but I loved him anyway.
- I've realized that it doesn't matter how the ex felt in order to figure out what was real and what wasn't real. What was real to me is all I can know for sure. It's the only absolute.
- People were correct. I'm going through just a ton of changes. This is way beyond a wild ride. Most days I enjoy it. Today I did not. Mr. Boyfriend, for all the wrenches he has thrown over the last few weeks, made it much more tolerable today. He distracted me and then made my life easier. We shall see...the real test....will he fix the kitchen sink???
- It could be a very long time before I have sex again and I don't like that at all. I think I have a pretty strong sex drive. Mr. Boyfriend never experienced this. This is probably good. Then again, I don't think I'd want to go through that withdrawal again. Ok, who am I kidding? It'd probably be worth it.
posted by New Day | 4:11 AM
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