Posts Tagged ‘tired’

I read my horoscope last week & it said I needed to run away. I couldn’t agree more.

Tonight, after slowly walking the dogs around the block for the umpteenth million time, while Zephyr wandered away from me, because he’s figured out I can’t grab him if I have Trooper, I’d had it. I took the dogs home, threw their leashed in the basket, grabbed my purse & nearly ran out the door.

My car is gone. It died today again–died is becoming a word my jeep does more often than not now. Everything in my life is dying & breaking–my dogs, my jeep, my apartment. AND I’M TIRED!

So tired, and losing my patience with this slowness, this tedious, every day, slowness and breaking down, so I ran away.

You wouldn’t know it. You would call it “going out for the evening”, but for me, it was running away.

I rode my bike all the way downtown–me, on my bike! I rode all the way to Hot Italian, my new favorite bar/pizza spot–all white, black, marble, very modern. It shines & glitters. It’s clean. It’s  everything my life isn’t right now.

I ordered something with vodka, limoncella & ice. It was splendidly tall & fizzy. I flipped through Italian Elle & ordered fresh basil pizza with a thin, thin crust. And I didn’t think about the dogs once. Not once. No worry, no fretting, no nothing. I was free.

This has got to be what parents feel like when they have just given and given, and one day, that’s just it. There’s nothing left to give, if they don’t give to themselves, and fast.

There are so many things I don’t do anymore– leave town, for one, kayaking, tango. I need more time, out there, or just more time with me, sans dogs.

And the funny thing was, tonight? I wasn’t scared–not sitting alone at the bar, not riding my bike home at dusk without a light, not taking alleys, nothing. I felt free. And free is something I haven’t felt for a very long time.


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I’m not sleeping.

I’m not sleeping so the boogy men are coming out to tromp on my self-worth, pick at the dark circles, the wrinkles, the… I go out, try to sit quietly amongst the clans of gabby lunch goers, drink my coffee. I am trying to take in what they have without being overwhelmed by it. It’s a real oil and water ordeal.

I go out, try to sit quietly amongst the clans of gabby lunch goers.

When I don’t sleep, I don’t get up, because come morning I’ve already been up a dozen times in the night, my head feels heavier than a pumpkin, it throbs and creaks like an old porch door,  and the pillow feels softer than it is. The bed feels like a safe raft. Zephyr comes up and lies beside me. I can press my head against his warm, breathing fur. It helps quiet it all.

The bed feels like a safe raft.

When I rise finally, I start comparing. All my lacks against all their strides–you know, “them.” I am falling behind, even when I am making small steps to get ahead. They feel like they are never enough. For every step up I make, I fall back a flight of stairs.  The bruises are adding up.  

For every step up I make, I fall back a flight of stairs.  The bruises are adding up.

It’s difficult being alone, because there is no one to lean on, to wrap their arms around me, counter attack my negative grocery list. I have to be my own blanket, my own healer, my own everything. I spend a lot of time battling good against evil in my head. It’s exhausting.

The only thing I know to do is start over, again and again and again.  

As I sit here, my laundry list grows longer and I watch it unfurl like ticker tape. It is mesmerizing.

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Poor blog. Not getting much attention lately. Mostly, writing short, pithy posts on my Etsy blog–less pathos, more Prozac.  Plus, I’ve been job hunting (again!), stock market hyperventilating, Excel studying (yuck!) & hiding out. No tango, just long walks with Zephyr. Long, long walks.

The weather is fabulous. It feels like April. Some days this feels wonderful, and others, well, it’s January for God’s sake. Can we get a little rain, please?

Okay, you get the picture. When I have something wonderful, kind or even decent to share, I’ll let you know.


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