Palest Ink

Me: I always think it’s corny when people say “I am speechless”
Um. No, you’re not.
S: right, like, “you just said something, motherfucker”
me: Exactly, I’m glad someone understands.
We should probably get spandex outfits and run around beating people up who say that.
It would be a valuable public service.
S: the hackney avengers
me: And the letter on our outfits? “…”
S: and our signature phrase will be “Really? Really?”
me: yes, this is going to be awesome.
I should go practice my punching.
S: and eye rolling
me: I got that down already.
S: does it draw blood?
me: Uh….. no.
S: back to work

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For months (maybe longer?), I have been feeling overwhelmed and helpless about all the things I want/need to accomplish and seemingly unable to move forward. Every time I sit down to work at home, I would think about all the different things I should be doing in a short amount of time. I would get so paralyzed, that I pretty much did nothing instead.

Yesterday, I made a plan. I organized my goals into categories, gave each one a time frame, and entered them into an iphone organizer, so that I don’t have to hold them all in a jumble in my brain. Then, I plotted out a calendar, setting aside specific measured times to do whatever is next on the list. I also recognized my need to curtail social networking during these designated times, since that is a major distraction for me. I already feel much less “cluttered”, I think this will work.

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Me: Your razor is feeling sad and neglected.
L:Oh? Are you just assuming or did it tell you that?
Me: Yeah, well it made a pouty face at me, so the message was pretty clear.
L: That’s not a pouty face, it’s triple blade action.

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It has been an interesting couple weeks in my life. I think Valentines Day would be a great time to talk about my recent break up. On February 3rd, Larry ended our official relationship, in favor of having no “commitment and obligation” to a girlfriend at this time in his life.

My first reaction was one of despair. My life has already been uprooted once this year, and I was not feeling capable of doing it again, even if I had money to move, which I don’t. And then there was the matter of our plans to travel to Minnesota together on the 5th, this fact only increased my sense of panic. Once it became clear that we could get along and that I am not in immediate need of a new home, I calmed down. It still hurts a bit when I think about it in terms of him being willing to give up our relationship seemingly so easily, but I try to not let myself think about it in those terms. Rather, I try to realize that he wasn’t giving me what I wanted in a primary relationship anyways, not out of spite, but because he didn’t have it to offer. So in a way, renaming our relationship is a way of just acknowledging what was already there, a way to free myself from expectations that would likely have continued to be un-met until we ended up hating each other.

Spending time with two people from my past while in Minnesota last week also helped me with some perspective. The first, my mother, is a negative example. She expects other people to make her happy, and blames others when things don’t go her way. I have no desire to be like this, so I choose to make the best of wherever I find myself.

The second, my friend Sharon, is happily single. She loves herself and her life despite it’s difficulty. Regarding the feelings of desperation to find another partner after a break up, she nonchalantly says to me “Oh, those go away.” She shows me what it is like to love your own company, and makes me want to get there too.

Then there are the myriad of things I want to do, and never have time for. When I think about that, I am actually almost looking forward to being single again for the free time it affords.

I still care about Larry, and am happy that we can still get along so well, despite this sudden redefinition of what we mean to each other. I think he still cares about me, too, in his own way. Who knows what will happen in the future, all I know is everything is fine today.

And for the record, having Larry along on the trip was actually pretty good. We got to redefine our interactions with each other in a neutral space that was not connected to our former habits, and he served as a buffer between me and my mothers crazy side up until the moment he left me in Mankato to go visit his friend in the twin cities. More on that later, I will save my tales of my psychotic mother for another post.

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