A New Name & New Babies

Mochi (black) and Wasabi (tabby)

Mochi  and Wasabi

I’ve been slipping with the regularity of my posts. The main excuse for my laxity is the newly adopted babies above. It’s difficult to bustle and pivot around a kitchen with two tiny ones underfoot, sticking noses in cupboards and heads in the oven à la Sylvia Plath. One evening, I heard a thud in the fridge – a sure sign, I thought, that a precariously balanced jar had overturned. Upon my opening the door and peering inside, Wasabi jumped out from the bottom shelf. He had surreptitiously slipped by while mama’s attention was elsewhere. And, frankly, it’s easy to be distracted by two balls of fur cavorting across the hardwood floors.

Now that I’ve renamed my blog to something less offensive and, hopefully, scoured it of posts that may upset friends and family, I really must start dabbling in the kitchen – and on these pages – once again.

Derailed

I’ve been derailed– on many levels.  I’ve turned all my focus on work and, even when it comes to work, I haven’t had any drive lately – just going through the motions.  My gelato project has been tucked away behind closed desk doors in my home office.  I haven’t worked on it in months. I’ve gained weight – a lot of weight – eleven pounds since May.

I’m finishing up my last work project for the year this week.  After that, I have four days of rest and relaxation (and six spa appointments) at Miraval to rejuvenate myself and get back into my groove.  Get on track, girl!  The next two months are light with work so I’m recommitting myself to the “Life” part of the proverbial work/life balance.

Goals for the next two months:

  1. Get in shape/Lose eight pounds
  2. Start (and finish) main bathroom remodel
  3. Re-energize gelato dreams/business plan
  4. Upgrade my surrounding (replace outdated 1980’s chair and buy flat screen TV, paint)
  5. Research options for adding A/C to the house (not another sweltering summer)
  6. Replace tree that died in backyard & clean up front yard
  7. Blog regularly again!

I’m worried that I’m biting off more than I can chew – especially trying to do this over the holidays, but, if I wait until the new year, I have a string of projects that will carry me away until Summer.

The Next Chapter

I’ve been told that I need to close the chapter of my life that included him.  It may not have a sufficient ending, like an unfinished Franz Kafka story, but I must move on regardless.

So,  I turn the page and I stare at a blank piece of paper. What can I say about the protagonist? She’s emotionally beaten and bruised, weary from her struggles (wary as well).  Cynical?  Yes, but there is a little glimmer of hope that sparks within her still.

What does she do next?  The online dating appears to be going nowhere.  She receives emails almost every day but, the men that seem to have fallen for her live on another coast – or even in another country.  The men that seem mutually compatible fizzle out before the first date.  The ones she sees and say, “maybe perhaps,” don’t respond to her emails.

She needs a diversion.  But what?  Her work, right now, is as disheartening as her love life.  And her hobbies bore her. And her friendships are close to nil. What is her next step?  How does she move on?

Eat a Sandwich

I seem to have turned a sudden corner. Since Thursday, I’ve been feeling okay – not zip-a-dee-do-dah happy, but not pining and crying over love lost either.  There are stretches of time when I’m not even thinking about him, although there’s still stretches of time when I do, but these times see shorter…and not as sad.  I’m not constantly thinking I see his car on the freeway (a silver Altima – do you KNOW how many of those fucking cars are out there?  I do!)  Of course,  I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop – thinking it’s a phase and I’ll be back to my old sad-sack self some morning.  Perhaps my depression has turned into manic-depression and I’m beginning my manic phase.  God, I hope not!

So, what happened to make this change?  I honestly don’t know.  My Psychiatrist thinks the Wellbutrin finally kicked in.  My Therapist thinks it has something to do with my newly landscaped backyard (not a euphemism – I just landscaped my backyard on Wednesday) and/or the fact that I connected my feelings of “unwanted-ness” from my father to my feelings of “unwanted-ness” from my ex.  I, personally, think it’s because I ate a sandwich.

Days since I’ve contacted my ex: 62 (4 days to go!!)

Days since I’ve searched for my ex: 14 (Long road on this one)

What I’m grateful for:  my beautiful newly-landscaped backyard

Imprinted

On the walkway outside my door is this shoe print.  Over the months, I’ve passed by it hundreds of times, whether it’s to slide inside my car to drive to work or stepping over it to carrying out the trash to the curb.  It used to make me smile, this insignificant print, knowing what it meant to me –  until the day  he left.  Of course, it’s HIS shoe print.  Suddenly, its meaning changed.  It was mocking me,  needling me, another little daily reminder not allowing me to move on.  I waited patiently  for the first rains of Spring to rid me of this remnant of him.  Finally, the rains poured down for days, rinsing the dusty trees and the roofs and clogging the streets  with winter muck and leaves.  The sun finally came out and dried up my neighborhood – and, to my amazement and disappointment,  the print was still there.  There have been half a dozen rain storms since he left, and after each one, I step out of the house, glancing at the ground,  hopeful that this last downpour will be the one that wipes the print, and another piece of my memory of him, away. Each of these mornings dash my hopes – I find it still there.

A friend asked, “is it pointing towards the house or away.”  Frankly, I never noticed.  I looked the other day – the answer is “away”. He was walking away.

This weekend, I grew tired of waiting for nature to help me get over him.  My mind has Wellbutrin and my pantry has Simple Green.  So…

and then…

There’s a scrub brush swirl where the print once was. Maybe someday I will have to remove that, too. But for now, this was enough.

Days since I’ve contacted my ex:  53

Days since I’ve searched for my ex: 5

What I am grateful for:  a life where I can take a Saturday afternoon nap.