Down The Rabbit Hole

I’ve been very tired yet having a hard time sleeping the past few days.  We’ve reached a stage with the shop where there are so many balls up in the air.  Orders we’ve placed, but haven’t received.  Orders we’ve received, but aren’t in inventory.  Inventory that hasn’t been processed in our point of sale system.  Point of sale items that aren’t in our accounting software.

It’s a lot and it feels like we’re never getting enough done.

I have started writing up a more concrete, less whiny, description of the store.  But my mind just isn’t there tonight.

Instead I went digging in my old files.  Oh my.  Sometimes I can barely remember what my life was like a year ago.  And I certainly don’t remember writing this.  But it was something I needed to read today.

From December, 2004

“The future should not dictate the past.  I shouldn’t look at where we are now and cast shadows back.

I’m trying to leave each where they lay.  Hard for such an organized girl like myself.  Hard to not pick up the pieces and try to make a pretty picture.  But I know there are completely different puzzle boxes mixed up together – a snapshot of the cabin, a black and white of hugging at the airport, a split shot of us on the phone.  And us at breakfast.  I need to not try and mix them together.  Let the past be what it was, the future what it will be, and enjoy right now for what it is.”

Dream Sequence

Last night, I dreamed of a first kiss.

It was between myself and this guy I know.  In real life, he’s not that attractive (to me) and even more socially unept than I am.  Our knowledge of each other (we don’t even see each other enough to use the most platonic and blase turn of the word “relationship”) is I suppose what you might call professional.

A few months ago, I let him down.  I guess.  It’s one of those times where looking back, you wish you did something different but for the love of fuck you still don’t know what that something is.

So he showed up in this dream, in a relatively realistic manner of our situation.  Except there was this undenying romantic attraction between us.  And somehow I ended up at his house.  And we kissed.

And it was awesome.

It didn’t surprise me to have this dream.  Somehow, perhaps, my psyche was trying to right the wrong – give him some attention he didn’t get in the real life scenario.

It also didn’t surprise me how much I enjoyed that first kiss.  I miss first kisses a lot.  I know I’m not supposed to say that and I am a horrible wife for it, but it’s true.  I was good at first kisses, first dates, first months, first sleep overs.  Yeah, yeah, the details get muddy for everyone over time.  But at least I can admit that just because I’ve said happily-ever-after doesn’t mean I don’t remember the journey to get here was fun.

Staring Contest

I blink.

And my world is upside down.

The vague unease I felt being part of something big I wasn’t sure I deserved to be a part of is replaced by the vague unease that I am part of something I’m not sure deserves me.

But the truth is, on paper, if I push on I doubt anyone but myself will look back and think that.  Myself and the few others who are thinking the same thing right now.

I blink again.

A person who raised me and made sure I got exercise and ate my vegetables (I can only remember once hiding them underneath my booster seat), now relies on me to see the restroom signs, the street signs, the xs marks the spot.

She gave me metallic sticky stars for pooping when I was constipated at age four.  Now I look the other way and pretend I don’t understand when she mentions difficultly collecting a urine sample.

Blink.  Blink.

Is it all right side up again?  Have I won?


I should be asleep.  Instead I’m perfecting my ITunes library and remembering a time when Dashboard Confessional was on repeat.

On my one day off this week, I will go to Gainesville to discuss with my grandmother how she will live the rest of her life.  A life she doesn’t particularly want to live without my grandfather.

My father is fine with my deciding the fate of his mother’s laundry and eye drops.  Her bills and depends.  I am fine with him being fine.  My grandmother is fine with it too.

I am fine with it too.

I still wish I could turn back time.  I hated the insecurity Dashboard Confessional meant.  Hated the boy whom I so wanted to love because he caused the insecurity.  And as much as I wish I could go back knowing what I know now, I would gladly go back to a time when my insecurity was my biggest problem.

Pogress date July 7, 2005

“Are you still up for tomorrow night?”


“Uh oh.”


Turns out, he was only kinda up for it as well.

I like him, I really do. As well as you can like anyone whom you’ve seen three times in the past five months.

It hit me the week of the AC breakdown/New Jersey trip. He’d had spotty internet access and was emailing about once a week. As I sat down to respond to his latest, I had to sit back and close my eyes against all the shit that had happened. How did I sum that up?

That’s when I realized that it really wasn’t going to work. Casual or serious, I wasn’t going to get what I wanted from a relationship – support and distraction. Someone to either battle my fears with me or take me out for drinks and make me feel pretty so I can forget about them for a while.

2009 Progress Update

I got to this point in the document without figuring out to whom I was referring.

Progress date February 2, 2004

Have you ever felt that any choice you made was going to be right and wrong?

That’s how it feels when you realize you want a divorce.

There’s no way to describe it and make anyone understand except those who also had to make this choice. Yes, I use the word, “had” and “choice”. A mandatory selection. One that you never thought you’d consider, but can no longer deny is staring at you from the ballot box.

And you can do your research. You can find out how other people handled this. And while you’re talking to them, you feel calm and good and know that you will make the right decision.

That feeling can sometimes last through the car ride home and putting away the laundry.

You will decide to trust your intuition – go with what “feels” right. Then he will call. Or not. You will ask if he will move into your apartment complex and he’ll say no.

2009 Progress update

My ex-husband and I still live in the same city, and have some of the same friends.

We are both remarried.  He to a woman younger than him; me to a man older than me.  Him with a child (a son, I believe) as he always wished (I hope); me childless with no plan to change that scenario as I always wished (and I hope Tom wants as well).

I truly don’t feel like I was ever married before.  Of course, I don’t feel like I am married now.

Life is a series of scenarios.  Of people.  Of instances.

I don’t believe you can say happily ever after to anyone but yourself.  That’s pragmatic and sad at the same time.

And yet….

As writing this, I realize the date of this post was one day shy of a potential 3 year anniversary.

Is life about potential and anniversaries?  Or pragmatic and sad?

Or is it simply technical?  Technically, due to lawyers and paperwork, it was a 3 year anniversary.  And technically, I couldn’t care less.

Or could I?

Untitled fiction

“Now hold on a minute!”

“Which one?” she asked cooly.

He stumbled under this twist in the dialog.  Every time they met, it was the same arguement, the same tears, the same making up.

“…which what one?”

She gazed at him, dry eyed, “Which minute?  Which minute would you like me to hold on?  The minute I thought you were coming back to me?  Or the minute I realized you would always leave?  Because you see, those are very different minutes.  And I need to know which one to hold on to.”


Our eyes were locked across the flames of the bonfire. He had asked why I had hoped he wouldn’t come here. A voice I hadn’t heard in a long time spoke before my lips moved.

“This moment, right now, it is very important that you are completely honest. It is what this moment was made for.”

I said, “Because I’m still attracted to you.”

I have no recollection of his next words. I was too busy listening to my body rejoice.

The truth did not make things easier, it did not supply a beacon to guide me. It did not provide shelter or an answer.

It just made what happened true and real. That is not something that had occurred in my life for a long time.

I hold that moment in my heart. To treasure our amazing time together, to blanket my sanity when I think I just can’t make it one more day at work, but most importantly, to remind myself and give me strength to be honest again.