Wednesday, November 12, 2008

I just realized that I've been living in my apartment for exactly 2 months now. I suppose that doesn't really mean anything, but like it or not, we're all slaves to numbers to a certain extent, so I thought I'd mark this numerical milestone with some words.

In some ways, it seems like I've lived here longer. I have new routines, some of which are due to school, and some of which are due to my reduced time with the kids. I have a new neighborhood, which I'm still exploring. For example, last night when I was on a quest for a jumbo-sized rat, I found out that the pet store down the street just sells fish. I also discovered that there's a vegetarian cafe within walking distance. The next step is to see if the food there is palatable. I'm also enjoying the fact that I can have music playing all the time because there are no nearby kids trying to watch movies.

I'm having a hard time reconciling my old life with the new. It's still hard to be over at the old house when I'm taking care of the kids, and it's often hard for me to talk to Jen. This tends to make all the memories (good and bad) and the pain come rushing back in. At times like this, I'm reminded that I'm still very much in transition. It has been a long while since I was last truly single - around 15 years, in fact. There were virtually no gaps between my last three relationships, although the one in the middle was so off-again-on-again that I'm still not sure how to classify it. I wasn't really single though - just confused. As for the future, I'm trying to keep busy and work on maintenance, which is always something I've been lax with. I need to be better at following through with the choices I make, rather than starting strongly and losing my way as time wears on.

In another month it will be almost Christmas, and my 41st birthday will have come and gone. I'm not sure what the holiday season is going to be like for me yet. It may be hard, but then again if I focus my energies in the right way, it might be okay. Time will tell.

Today, I've got to go get my TB test read in a couple of hours. I don't have TB, of course, but the world runs on bits of official paper - at least until all the trees are gone.

Tomorrow, I'm going to the dentist for the first time in over a decade.

Right now, I'm listening to the soundtrack to Frida. Great film. Great music. Great artist.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

You do know that people read this stuff, right?!

I am a stranger to you and that seems creepy in this moment. It strikes me odd that you write so publicly and yet so anonymously, but I am grateful.

I have read your writing for a few years. Doing so, I am better in touch with the things I miss of the Bay Area (Saratoga) by way of you, than anyone else. I love the weather, hills, salamanders, banana slugs, rodents, hiking, and the trees. In fact, I found you (via Flickr)while googling the Peterson Grove and Sanborn...which is where my students and I field-tripped.

One assumes that you want to have readers, posting as you do, yet I still read sheepishly. This is especially true right now as your sadness is so compelling. It is hard to read, but also it implores that I do.

I guess that I wanted you to know that this reader has enjoyed your gently bright way and your sneaky humor. Thank you for sharing that.

In times of similar change in my life, I have been able reconnect with what is lovely about myself and to find my lost interests. I see that I was sweetly broken then, but that the time was an investment in myself. Your writing seems to show you doing the same thing. I hope so!

I have presumed a lot. Hopefully the knowing that there are strangers rooting for your happiness feels like a good thing. If not, take a shower to wash away the ick and block my IP!

Only best wishes to you.
~L

dr silence said...

Thank you, L. I appreciate your kind words. It is good to know that people like you are out there rooting for me. If you haven't already, read the 11/13 post for further clarification about why I choose to write publicly.