to answer your earlier question, chrissy, yes. i'm blodging in hindsight now. everything that's happened to me lately has happened in a blurry busy fog. too much work, too much pressure, too many dirty dishes..life can get real sucky real fast if you let it.
part of my mia period was spent in austin. ended up staying with my dear friend little debbie. now little debbie is deep in the 'about to get divorced' funk. believe me, i have been there, so don't mistake my tone for judgement.
the night i came, little d had reserved right to the home and the dog, and the hubby had hit the town, staying the night with a friend. what the fuck was i thinking? did anything about working overtime scream go spend the night with your friend who's in the earliest throes of divorce? mercy, i'm a moron.
so debbie and i got drunk. i mean, what else can you do? and then the phone calls came. at least one an hour, the freaking ringing. then the beep of the text messages, then the ringing again.
all the while, i'm trying to be supportive to little debbie. on loan, her own things, only for a couple of hours, then she has to vacate again. their home is beautiful, save for the shrine to their now dying love. every wall in the place had a framed wedding picture of some kind.
do you know anyone who decorates pretty much solely with pictures of themselves? i have one or two framed pics of myself in my entire home. one is a friend from grade school and i at a reunion, the other is me in front of lake louise in banff, canada. the most beautiful place i think i've ever been. but a shrine? not to me, maybe to the kiddos, though.
anyhoo, it was uncomfortable, to say the very least. i sat in the embattled home, surrounded with pictures of love, pictures ingrained in my own memory on every wall, pictures of the day when this day would never come. it was torture. all the while, hearing repeated tales of dissappointment, depression, and dissonance. it was the worst sleep of my life, and more stressful than i could ever imagine.
weird thing is, little debbie and her hubby are actually at war over who gets that nightmare of a landing pad. they communicate every day primarily to map out when and why each of them needs to be onsite. a constant, ongoing struggle for control. "look, i get the home, i need it. no, i left last time, you leave." i think if i was their marriage counselor i'd ask them to burn it to the ground.
guess that's why i'm a financial counselor and not a marriage counselor. one night in the temple of doom and i thought it time to cut losses and run. i'm a realist, and ain't no way to way to feel good about laying claim to a graveyard. sadly, our refuge, our solace, our happy place, our home, is only a graveyard of lost souls and memories once love moves out.
good news is, i escaped the temple of doom by the skin of my teeth. i headed out on ice covered roads just as soon as my eyes opened. unscathed, for the most part, i was happy to get home. and this time, i really was thankful for all that i have. life is good, kids are home, home is sweet, home sweet home.Posted by shoe at February 25, 2006 09:17 AM | TrackBack