Same stuff, different day. (Or substitute the word stuff for whatever profanity you like!)
I talked to my friend, Ann today that I haven’t talked to in ages. She lives in Chicago and we have been close for forever, but the distance gets in the way. So how do you catch each other up? It doesn’t really matter how many months or years it has been since we’ve chatted. It’s all the same stuff. It is remarkably different and yet remarkably the same every time. She read last week’s blog and asked me if I was still mad. Hell, yeah.
I suppose it’s not really all that different for anyone else in the world. Maybe it’s just that I bother to write about it and put it out there for people to see. Maybe that is why so many people like the blog- because they relate to it. They say the most successful comedians are the ones that tell jokes about stuff like going to the dentist, because everyone can identify with it. So it’s not that I think I have a particularly difficult life, it’s just that I have been blessed-cursed with the desire to write about it.
July 10, 2014. Had a rough week with the kids. After listening to them tell me what a completely inadequate parent I am, I told them they were partly right. It’s been three and a half years since their dad died and I feel less capable today than I did a year ago. I have no idea how the hell to handle them. I have no idea how to adjust and do it alone. They got me there. In another three years I should be in the nuthouse. However, I also told them that while I am indeed extremely imperfect, I still somehow think I’m a pretty damn good parent and in spite of my flaws, they are freaking lucky to have me.
Another rough week with the business. We are working hard to get things in order and organizing in a way we probably should have done months and months ago. In our defense though, we have been learning as we go. And oh yeah, we have been completely overwhelmed with our schedules. My brain doesn’t wrap around the things I need to do very easily so the learning curve is slow. And did I mention we still haven’t made a dime on the book?
I’ve accomplished a lot on the house this year. Kitchen and computer room are redone. Office waiting room and the office are redone. House has new siding and trim, a four-week project. And yet, the pool leak has managed to stay alive after four or five attempts to repair it. The hot tub has another four jets that need replacing after I already replaced four a month ago. Ah… home ownership is a joy.
Men? That’s always the best one. No men are interested and I die of boredom. Then several men are interested, usually at the same time and it’s almost annoying. But almost always, they are the “wrong” ones anyways. Why are they wrong? Because my heart belongs to one who does not return the sentiments. The one you want more than anything, is the one that just can’t make the leap to love you. So you try to stay open because you know what you deserve, but always long for the one you can’t have. Dating is such a bitch.
July 10, 2014. Not much different from July 3, 2014, one week earlier. Not much different from June 10, 2014, one month earlier. Not much different from July 10, 2013, one year earlier. My mantra from Bitter and Sweet, is just that. Bitter and sweet go hand in hand. Paradoxes that make you crazy and yet make sense at the same time. Today’s blog is no different. It’s discouraging, and yet it’s not. It’s just life.
I’m sure some of us are not as angst-ridden as others are. But there are probably plenty of people who wake up like me and know that things aren’t the way they are supposed to be. And I have no idea how to truly change any of it. Could it be at the exact same time that things are exactly the way they are supposed to be?
Perhaps tomorrow I will suddenly have wisdom beyond my years and my kids will be bonded tightly with me. Perhaps tomorrow I will suddenly have knowledge beyond my years and my book will go viral. Perhaps tomorrow I will suddenly come across a ridiculous amount of money and I can pay someone to fix all the stuff on the house without having to stress about it. Perhaps tomorrow, that elusive man will suddenly have wisdom beyond his years and sweep me off my feet after realizing I am the woman of his dreams.
Or maybe not. So I guess I will just wake up tomorrow and face July 11, 2014 just like I have all 47 other July 11ths in my life- one moment at a time.