I Want Life To Be Easy

I can’t sit still. I need to work and yet a million things flow through my head. The rewrite, the moss on the roof, sticks in the yard, the forgotten payment I still haven’t mailed. Where to query? What can I do (as she pauses remembering the 2 lottery tickets from yesterday…win the lottery and then just delete the post) …

Sigh. I’m back.

I’m numb. Then I’m anxious. Restless, caught in a spiral of denials and letting go and regrets. Looking for a quick fix. An easy answer.

I want life to be easy.

It’s the statement that floats around my head these days. It’s not that I don’t understand the difficulty of life. It’s not that I haven’t encountered, tackled and continue to handle incredibly difficult situations. But, I’m not really accepting that Life Is Not Easy. That means I have to work harder. Like my life depended on it.

Where’s my safety net? Safety nets. Don’t we all have more than one?

I let go of one last week. It’s knocked me on my ass. It was the ‘don’t worry, I’m not really alone’ net. One I’ve been clutching to for years, almost 9.

Funny. I’ve had to let go of all kinds of shit in the last 30 days.

• The colonoscopy/endoscopy procedures done under the same sedation. We all know that kind of letting go that entailed. Plus the trust that all would go well and nothing serious would be discovered.
• The clog in my pipes. Water on laundry room floor, sewage in guest shower stall. TWICE
• Four or five days without power. I lost a refrigerator and 2 freezers full of food. Every fucking condiment I owned had to be thrown away. All the wonderful jams, pestos, sauces, exotic mustards. Dumped. And, of course I can’t replace them all. The frig looked beautiful. I’ve always loved white space so a moment of rejoicing! (ha ha)
• My vision of life as easy-peasy. No more thinking I can casually find work, money, fame, happiness, the best sex on the planet, the ideal man. It’s the casual part I am having to grapple with.

Hmm… Only five little deadly bullet points. It feels like more. It is. I let go of something, someone, I needed to let go of a long time ago. Done it before, but never permanently. My safety net. My love. The one I want but can’t have.

I  knew we’d never have more and have struggled mightily at times, expending life-sucking energy, to “be ok” with my choice. That’s what brings numbness, it keeps me from sitting on the left side of the sofa. Nostalgic over coffee on Wednesday mornings. Temporarily losing my sex drive (GAWD, I know, but really it’s a good thing…there is no one around to play with!) . Turning the bottle of Wild Turkey to the corner, like a bad boy, so I can’t see the label–which is way better than just drinking the damn stuff in one sitting.

Yes, I’m whining. Part grief, part story-telling. Part exorcism.

We all let go. Life isn’t easy for any of us. I know that. You know that. Some days are better than others:

Some days are dry, some days are leaky
Some days come clean, other days are sneaky
Some days take less, but most days take more
Some slip through your fingers and onto the floor
Some days you’re quick, but most days you’re speedy
Some days you use more force than is necessary
Some days just drop in on us

 

 

Come Hither Said the Goat to His Master

I’ve never contemplated having sex with the family goat…. yes, back on the farm I have a goat.  I am going out with a 75 year old man this next weekend so we could make some ‘old goat’ jokes here but let’s not. He’s well connected (which is not the same as well hung) and has written a MAJOR book . How can I say no? He is seeking companionship and according to his profile is looking for women aged 35-58, making me almost too old for him.  He used the words craved and dying in his emails to me-as in”dying to meet you”.  Not the other type.

I’m gonna do it (meet him for lunch, that is). What the hell. I was honest and replied that I found our age difference to be a considerable disadvantage. He apparently is fine with the situation.

Back to goats. Florida just passed a bill, after 3 years of trying, that would make it a first degree misdemeanor to engage in sexual activity with animals. The impetus for this bill was some poor man who apparently “accidentally asphyxiating a family goat during a sex act and the abuse of a horse in the Keys. ” source

Gee whiz. The funnier part of the article comes when they report one elected official’s plea that he never wanted to discuss the  “icky” topic in public meetings because there were frequently children present.  I’m guessing that the children of said man who was strangling his goat in an erotic sex act are pretty traumatized. Gawd, that man must have really loved that goat