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

 

 

Who Knew A Dog’s Life Was So Good?

Fuck. Damn. Bloody hell.  OK. I feel better now.

Wednesday the throat tearing procedure happened, as planned. Saturday night I had my first bits of solid food. And, I’ve had quite enough, thank you very much, of the throat and swallowing jokes. One friend inquired as to when I’d be able to swallow something big again. As you can imagine, it was a man. Another offered to share some naughty rugby jokes on the topic.

My throat is apparently healing, I think. I mean really, how does one know?

I recently met a very sweet man and he actually offered to take me to the hospital for the throat procedure, stayed with me through the prep phase and then waited to bring me home, even stopping to buy jello for me.  Very nice.  And, yesterday morning he wrote to say that the ‘couples chemistry’ just wasn’t there. I guess I knew that too…but good men are difficult to come by sometimes.  He’s a great guy and we will still do some things together; I think we’ll become good friends and I look forward to that. But…..I’m tired of this.

And:

• Yes, I know there’s plenty of time

• Yes, I know that my divineness means I shouldn’t settle for anything less than I deserve

• Yes, I know that I am attractive and there are men out there who want to ‘bed’ me ( by the way, it ain’t enough)

• Yes, I know that loving myself and being single is just fucking wonderful (and if I were a dog and could lick my own balls, imagine how much easier it would be to be single?)

• Yes, I know that every girl has her day and her Prince will come and Adam had Eve and there’s one man or two or three for each woman and that being alone is not the worst thing in the world

Yada, yada, yada … I  just don’t know.  Maybe I can practice being a dog? Or….maybe it’s time to switch teams?