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.


Gonna Wash that Man Right Outta My Hair…

What’s this woman’s strategy to get her mind off a disinterested man?  It starts with a kick-ass, sweaty yoga class.  Yoga is cleansing – moving crud from the body.  Yoga is empowering – I am woman, hear me roar.  My butt cheeks are so sore today that I could barely get out of bed.  My buns of steel will be his loss.  Next, follow up yoga with a steamy bath, glass of wine and DermaDoctor KP Duty Body Scrub. Initiated women know that there’s nothing like it for ridding yourself of rough skin and any layer of “man” that may be lingering – and, boy, is my skin satiny soft and ready to be stroked by someone else.  Finish the night off curled up with a good read and any remaining thoughts just melt away. 

Speaking of dating, I recently read somewhere that 38% of couples meet at work.  Really?  I find that a bit unbelievable.  Every day, I’m surrounded by a sea of 500 coworkers and I don’t think I’d date any of them.  The guys in Accounting…um, no; a little too staid for me.  How about our IT team…I guess if I was into World of Warcraft there may be a common bond, but no and no.  Our slick and shiny sales team?  Again, no.  Am I picky?  Are my dating requirements really that high?