Mondays...

Monday nights are the nights I accomplish nothing at home.  I work from 8:30 until 5:00 then to the university library to take care of homework and then to class from 7:00 to 9:30.  When I arrive home it is nearly 10:00 and I am too physically wound up to go to bed right away, but too mentally tired to accomplish much.

Tonight I wanted to take apart and clean the vacuum cleaner.  It is still sitting in the closet, with my and my cats hair tangled about its rolling brush, likely needing a new belt and the filters need washing.   My rug is DISGUSTING, covered in cat hair and shoe print debris.

Tonight I wanted to send out emails to the performers of the show I am producing.  To remind them of the dates and times for bio deadlines, photos and performance piece titles.  I wanted to email potential program advertisers and follow up with those who said they would mail a check by now.  I've not logged into my email...not once since arriving home.

Tonight I wanted to finish my dishes, do a load of laundry, brush the cats, go grocery shopping, book a flight to Alaska and make a list of all the crafty things I could make and sell...

Oh, I've spent my time on facebook, checking out videos on Nowness and created this blog post.  Now I'm eying my bed and thinking that an hour snugged under the covers and an episode of Desperate Housewives may be the way to end the evening...

Tonight, instead of all those busy, practical and oh so necessary things that I need to accomplish, I am taking off my shoes, putting on my jammies and shutting off my brain.

Tomorrow, maybe I'll do something...

And here I thought I'd age gracefully

I'm not accepting the changes that are happening to my body as I approach 40.  I'm not liking the 166 pounds that showed up on the doctor's scale at my physical a few weeks ago.  I'm not liking my lower tolerance for alcohol and staying up late.  I'm not happy about the wrinkles that are showing up and the silver hairs that are popping up more and more frequently.

There was a brief period of time when I felt pretty.  When I could capture the eye of many when I entered a room.  I used to feel at ease in my body and I liked what I saw in the mirror.  I was a late bloomer, and it seemed that I had such a short blossom.  Now I look in the mirror and see plump and slump and I don't like any of it.

I look in the mirror and I see that if I'm going to get back what I had it's going to take work and I am by nature LAZY.  I know it's going to mean giving a few of those glasses of wine I have over the week.  I know it means less junk food and late nights, and more running, and a healthier lifestyle.  And...sigh.  I'm so undisciplined and so busy and I have so many excuses.

Down with the Sick...

I've not blogged in a few days and that is due to my immune system being karate chopped in the vitals by some horrid virus.  I've been exhausted for a week and on the couch for two days.  In fact, I'm about the head for my bed again as I am E-X-H-A-U-S-T-E-D.  

Sleep now.

Living well is the best revenge...

It took me 38 years to have my heartbroken.  Okay, I am being a bit dramatic.  It took 38 years before it ever took a severe beating.  I ended a relationship this summer because the man who I was, shall we say...less than honest?

Why did I fall for this man?  He was cute, and charming, and funny, and smart...and decent in bed.   He also had substance abuse issues and I seem to have a love of have a history of dating broken people.  Why did I give him a second chance?  Because for some dumb reason I also believed I could fix broken people.  I was afraid to be alone.  Because no one that interesting had 'loved' me before (yeah, I know I'm getting quote happy).  When discovered a year later he'd been lying to me about many, many things ever since the beginning of our relationship, I ended things. Done.  It was an epiphany kind of moment because I realized for the first time ever that I...

...WAS PISSED OFF...

...at a man for treating me like shit.  I'd never felt that before.  Until that moment I'd always made excuses for them but that day I realized that I was done with excuses.  I was getting the hell out. Three weeks later he was 'in a relationship' again with a much younger woman.  

Yeah, I pick fucked up men to date (hence why I've not dated for the past seven months) but until that moment, I didn't realize I deserved better.  While I couldn't verbalize it at the time, that was what I realized in that moment.  He was not worthy of me.  I am worthy of being treated with kindness and respect.  I also realized that I can't fix anyone.  That day, I looked at him and I saw a broken human being.

There is a part of me that wishes that one day he experiences the pain he has caused so many other people.  I can't say that part of me wishes him well and maybe that makes me small in some way, but  I think mostly I tend to feel indifference towards him. 

I won't ever say that I feel grateful for him 'helping' me find my anger because I believe that came solely from within myself, but I also believe that life is like compost.  Shit happens, and sometimes if you walk away, let it sit and breakdown you end up with some great fertilizer.  Today I am doing things I'd put off doing for years.  I'm succeeding at things that I'd never had the energy for because I was always with people who drained me to exhaustion.  Seven months later I'm doing quite well.  I'm even contemplating dating again...with caution.

So that's it.  I get to move on and be happy, and he...well...I hope he gets to see that I am thriving.  

Why I'm not married...

Today I read this article by Brienne Walsh, "An Open Letter to Women Who are Telling me it's my Fault I'm Not Married" 


I've reached a point where I've realized that if I am going to have anyone in my life, they are going to have to fit.  I don't mean they have to change to fit my life, I have spent far too much of my time trying to make myself into something my partner wanted simply because I did not want to be alone.  I would not want some one in my life who was trying to do the same.  No, I mean that from the very beginning they would have to fit.

I live a very full life.  I'm busy with performance projects, work, school and an active social life.  I don't want to give those things up to be with someone.  I won't give those things up to be with someone.  So should a person of interest come along, they are going to have to be a person who finds woman with a rich, full life appealing.

Despite the advances of women's rights, and all of the time and effort we put into creating lives that are fulfilling to ourselves, there still remains the expectation that we will adjust or give it up to fit the lives of our partners;and worse, so many of us do it without question.  No one even has to ask.  We simply adapt...

Thank you Brienne Walsh for this article.  You said so many things that needed to be said and I applaud you.

I know many of these feelings...

This week's Modern Love column in the New York Times really hit home for me.  Her comments on the feelings that came up on the train...there is a particular intersection, where a former boyfriend and I would kiss and say goodbye each morning, that evokes similar feelings for me.  It took me until I was 38 to feel what heartbreak is, and now, as I approach 40, I wonder if any sort of true love is in the cards for me.

I'm not one who dwells on such thoughts, but I can certainly relate to the words of this author.