An Elbow to the Face
Answer: What is something you really don't want to wake up to at 4 am, even if it's unintentional?
I'm fine, really. Ben got home around 10:00 last night, and we ended up sitting out on the porch, talking and getting drunk. I think at some point we walked to Quik Trip because I ran out of cigarettes. No way would I have ever considered that in my old neighborhood. Toto, I don't think we're in the ghetto anymore...
I finally told him to shut his drunk ass up and let me go to sleep around 2:30 this morning. I got up at 7:30 and made it to work by 8:45. He, of course, is off today and only recently got out of bed. Prick.
Oh, I'm not upset about it at all. It was a desperately-needed evening for both of us, I think. I went to see my Grandma last night, and, well, she looks like shit. She doesn't look like my grandma at all. And she was sort of out of it--due largely, I'm sure, to the high quantities of drugs they've been shoveling down her throat. I think I did well--I managed not to cry while I was there. I came close once in the hall while she was in the restroom, and again just before I left her for the night, but I managed to save it for when I finally left and got outside. It's not like I didn't know this was coming. My grandparents are 87 and 92, for fuck's sake. But I think a part of me always just sort of hoped they'd be around forever.
Getting old is a bitch.
I'm feeling really wierd lately. Almost like my brain is really struggling with the whole positive/negative outlook. I can think of several things going on in my life that could easily cause anxiety--moving, money, my custody case, my job, my grandparents, my family, ad nauseum--but on the other end, I can think of several things that are going incredibly well--moving, money, my custody case, my possible job change, my fantastic relationship with the most amazing man in the world, my gorgeous boy, ad nauseum. It's wierd, because I'll catch myself being really happy, and then I'll start to think, "wait, shouldn't I be worrying about this or that or the other thing," and then I ask myself--I don't know, should I?
Color me Sybil.
Once again, I have nothing going on at la officina. Makes it very difficult to be here, all things considered.
I haven't had any wierd correspondence (or not wierd, for that matter) from the ex for 2 days. This is a good thing. I don't know how long it will last, but I'm crossing everything I have to cross that this lasts.
I think Ben and I are planning a trip to Nashville at the end of the month. Maybe I'll see Elvis. (Nashville, Memphis, it doesn't matter, there are Elvi crawling out of the woodwork across the entire state.) That will be nice. Just the two of us, getting the hell out of here for 3 glorious days (+2 days on the road).
I'm fine, really. Ben got home around 10:00 last night, and we ended up sitting out on the porch, talking and getting drunk. I think at some point we walked to Quik Trip because I ran out of cigarettes. No way would I have ever considered that in my old neighborhood. Toto, I don't think we're in the ghetto anymore...
I finally told him to shut his drunk ass up and let me go to sleep around 2:30 this morning. I got up at 7:30 and made it to work by 8:45. He, of course, is off today and only recently got out of bed. Prick.
Oh, I'm not upset about it at all. It was a desperately-needed evening for both of us, I think. I went to see my Grandma last night, and, well, she looks like shit. She doesn't look like my grandma at all. And she was sort of out of it--due largely, I'm sure, to the high quantities of drugs they've been shoveling down her throat. I think I did well--I managed not to cry while I was there. I came close once in the hall while she was in the restroom, and again just before I left her for the night, but I managed to save it for when I finally left and got outside. It's not like I didn't know this was coming. My grandparents are 87 and 92, for fuck's sake. But I think a part of me always just sort of hoped they'd be around forever.
Getting old is a bitch.
I'm feeling really wierd lately. Almost like my brain is really struggling with the whole positive/negative outlook. I can think of several things going on in my life that could easily cause anxiety--moving, money, my custody case, my job, my grandparents, my family, ad nauseum--but on the other end, I can think of several things that are going incredibly well--moving, money, my custody case, my possible job change, my fantastic relationship with the most amazing man in the world, my gorgeous boy, ad nauseum. It's wierd, because I'll catch myself being really happy, and then I'll start to think, "wait, shouldn't I be worrying about this or that or the other thing," and then I ask myself--I don't know, should I?
Color me Sybil.
Once again, I have nothing going on at la officina. Makes it very difficult to be here, all things considered.
I haven't had any wierd correspondence (or not wierd, for that matter) from the ex for 2 days. This is a good thing. I don't know how long it will last, but I'm crossing everything I have to cross that this lasts.
I think Ben and I are planning a trip to Nashville at the end of the month. Maybe I'll see Elvis. (Nashville, Memphis, it doesn't matter, there are Elvi crawling out of the woodwork across the entire state.) That will be nice. Just the two of us, getting the hell out of here for 3 glorious days (+2 days on the road).
posted by Mitzi Green at 1:07 PM
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