Thinking

It’s 9:20. My lovely little family has been away for roughly 12 hours, and I worry about them. They went down to Grandma’s for the day, without me. This is the way thing work nowadays, and that’s not really a problem. I get my Day Off, and I get to spend it doing what I want and need to do, rather than going there.

Still, 12 hours is a long time for me to be away from my baby, and like I said: I worry. I worry sometimes that Freddie will wake up one day and realize what an awful person I can be (and often am) and decide to up and leave. It’s not probable, yet entirely possible, and I’m sure he would have the full support of his entire family if he did so.

Nothing has happened lately to make me think something like this is even close to happening, but that thought is always in the back of my mind. I don’t know anyone who is 100% confident that their relationship will last forever. 99.99%, well, yeah. I can see that. But everyone, and I mean everyone has doubts every now and again.

This is my now. And again.

No, I haven’t been drinking.

Okay, that’s a lie. I went to the liquor store today and they had Otter Creek beer, so I bought some and have had two. But in my body, two beers is nothing. I have Irish in me. And German. And Scottish. And Russian. It takes A LOT to get me drunk. And I don’t get maudlin drunk anyhow. I’m much more cheerful when I’m a little bit shitty, as we used to say.

I’m just… tired. A lot of crap has been going on lately and I’m having trouble finding ways to deal with it all. We’re selling our house. We’re buying another house. There’s a delicate dance that has to go on with both sides so that everyone stays happy and nobody pulls out of either deal. So there’s anxiety there. I have to find a job and put The Jillian into daycare. That’s huge anxiety. There is going to be a lot of adjusting coming up and I just don’t know if I’m up for it.

Of course I’m up for it. I haven’t got a choice. But it would be so nice if my Absentee Fairy Godmother could just wave a wand and take care of it all for me. Then maybe I’d be able to sleep.

Maybe tonight I’ll finish the rest of that six-pack, scribble something really stupid and emotionally retarded in my journal (oh yes, I still write with pen and paper – don’t you wish you could read the REALLY fun stuff that doesn’t make it here?), and lay in bed until I fall asleep out of sheer exhaustion.

I probably won’t. I’m old enough now to know that hangovers and me don’t mix. So I’ll probably stay up watching crappy movies on HBO, waiting for my family to come back home. And then I’ll think about it and decide if I should delete this entry or let it stay out here on Teh Intarwebses as yet another example of my shitty writing. :-)

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