I did it. Done. Finished. Finit. Se acabo...It feels weird, I am underemployed. I am underemployed lowers octave looks up and to the left un-der-em-ployed, me. Ok, I guess I am. The walk to the elevators was awkward. As much as I protest, contest, complain and curmudgeon I do have warm feelings for some (very few) of the warm bodies. So fleeting it was though, that feeling- by the time the "ding" alerted me of my arrival on the main floor, I was so over it.
The ride home was quiet and perhaps a bit somber. I am bittersweet on the whole arrangement because it is new, and with all things new there will be humps, hurdles and adjustments. I'm sure Joe has his own reservations, no more two-day reprieve to hold his fork the wrong way, spread butter with a spoon, fart in the bedroom, fry food, (Ali & AJ are on TV singing this song that I kinda like...it's Disney, but it's kinda catchy, something about a boyfriend-makes me feel young again, I used to have one of those) and whatever else they do here while I'm away. I can understand, it's a leap of faith for me too. I'm confident that we'll be fine, we've already battled the biggest demons; in-laws, infidelity and interfaith issues. An extra two days of me manning the maison won't kill him.
I'm meeting a new therapist tomorrow morning, I just remembered. Good thing too, because I was going to ask Joe to pick up a six-pack of Sunshine or Skinny Dip. A couple of weeks ago, I did stale/still drunk yoga-which was hysterical, by the way. At one point I'm in Downward Dog and I'm totally in the zone, just a breathing and a stretching only to realize that everyone else is upright and going into a gentle back bend! I tell you, alcohol is like WD-40 for your joints, at least until the next day. Anyway, sorry about the digression...if I tie one on tonight she's liable to book me a room at "Hut de Nut", it will take some time to discern my sarcasm from my psychosis. Seriously, I'm not thrilled about starting anew because I only want to discuss what I want to discuss and well, they can be pretty damn nosey. When I went to the employee assistance counselor, she was asking about my friends, my parents, hobbies...I'm thinking are you gonna keep me from bludgeoning someone or do you want to date me? laughs I guess it's all relative, but it's one of those deals like when you're in labor and the doctor asks if you have any history of heart disease, stroke, asthma and you're like, put that pen down before I kill you with it! That's where I am, "Listen lady, pick up your little pad and write the following: "Rx for happy during the day, sleeps well at night, tolerates others". That's it, and if you want to know about my mom I'll have her give you a call. Simple enough, no? I'll keep you posted...Oh no, I just noticed that the past couple of entries have been written as though I am writing to someone versus just writing...am I splitting. Is this some dissociative disorder? I do, on occasion talk to myself...hmmm. Ah that's okay I kinda like talking to me. Lisa? Avery? Are you guys out there?
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