so it’s been awhile since i placed pen to paper, well actually fingers to keyboard, last. mostly, the reason is, that in order to allow my lawyer to keep his blood pressure down, i have to save the really juicy stuff until The Never Ending Divorce is over. and you know it ain’t easy for me to keep this thing PG. i can do pg 13 at best and that’s even questionable. i just can’t publish all the really cool stuff on which i have been recently working. the man is keeping me down. the other reason is, i am just feeling, kind of, dare i say it, uninspired lately. a little bit blah.
so, what do i write about then? more ramblings? about how much i hate the holidays & birthdays now? about how i still dread doing homework over 20 years later? what it’s like to be living with a functional mental patient, possibly a Bona Fide Sociopath, who is plotting my demise as i sit here? how the dreariness of the impending long winter is bumming me out? how hard it is to go through my dad’s things when my mom asks me to so i have had a pile of his sweatshirts in my trunk for weeks? how i have taken to hibernating like a forest creature with layer of fat and all? it’s just not much fun being me now, as glamorous as it all must seem to you, i know. even though i am a “swinging single” now, i am in month 15 of a ridiculous divorce & impossible living situation and i am facing more major holidays without my father. i still cant seem to grasp the finality of his death yet. when i try to face it, it engulfs me in a giant wave of grief that i fear will drown me. and i wonder will i ever reclaim the part of me that died with him that same day? i am just so tired of being held hostage in my own life, trying to move forward but being held back. watching helplessly, the toll it’s taking on my beautiful, innocent children. knowing they deserve so much better than this & being able to do nothing about it. being held back by the very person that filed the damn papers in the first place. it’s infuriating. let me give you a small glimpse: today he had an electrician here to try to rig up the switches, to limit my utility usage. a few months ago, The Mental Patient removed 48, yes 48, light bulbs in my kitchen because he claims i leave the lights on too much. my kids now sit in semi-darkness to do homework. but i am the crazy bitch, right, asshat? perhaps i am: clearly i was mentally incapacitated the day i married him.
but i started this blog and i now feel a responsibility to my enormous readership to keep it fresh. keep it going. and i have scraps of paper here and there of half baked blog ideas, but none of them are really calling to me to complete right now. for example, i have a killer disney rant, another rant about the movie, field of dreams, my adventures this summer at what i like to call the “elder-pool” at my mom’s “community,” my evening as a chaperon at a sleep-over party for eighteen 9 year olds, why i think wawa is a fascinating commentary on society, tons of material on all the time spent at the supermarket, my evolution of cell phone dependence, funny stuff about my childhood, endless stuff about my dad, and the real meat of it all: my journey of self discovery which lead to my committal to my own happiness at any cost (and in those 3 little italic words lie most of the aforementioned juiciness). and seriously, stay tuned for all that stuff, because it’s all fabulous. well it will be. really.
why am i telling you all of this? i am not sure. for filler i guess. i am just in transition like the season. and so is this blog. because just like going to the gym, i feel an obligation to write, but not really the desire. sigh. stick with me though, i will perk up again soon. i always do. until then there is vodka and my g-spot…
