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“Looking for a new place to call home? Finding a home has never been easier. To find a home you want fast, just go to www…” sounds like a parody of my life. I’m on hold, waiting for a customer service rep to take my ad for the fridge and living room furniture. Starting in a new place has always been difficult when the move is connected more to other people’s desires than to mine. But I guess that makes sense, doesn’t it? It’s easy to feel helpless when you don’t feel in complete control of the situation. I do desire to put down roots, at least I think I do. But now that the move is a week away, I’m not so sure. Honestly, it’s been a really long time since I’ve felt this unsure, insecure and small. Instead of me packing things into boxes, I feel like each time I come home somebody’s been steadily stealing things from my space and I’ve just now noticed that there are no pictures on the walls, nothing in the cupboards and closets, no toiletpaper on the roll in the bathroom. Should I go pick up A now, or wait? I’ll wait. Maybe try to clean up a little so that her three-year old façade of normalcy can be halfway maintained. And daddy’s coming home tomorrow! For three days she’s been telling me things about him. That he likes milk. That he likes to watch Dora, just like she does. That he likes to sing. I wonder if they’re both hoping equally hard for the love they’ve been missing.

Five Things

I'm thinking a change in focus could be good. Don't you just hate it when people blog about being afraid to be happy? If you said yes you suck. Anyway. Five things that I like to do.
1. Kiss my daughter good night
2. Have enough time in my head for thought knots to get untangled so I can start knitting
3. See beauty in the everyday. I saw a water tower yesterday at Safeway that was robin's egg blue, and really shiny.
4. Not be depressed.
5. Did I say not be depressed already? Damn. Well, then, I'll try this again later when my mood is in an upswing.

Regressing

Wash dishes. Wash clothes. Sweep/mop floor. Clean upstairs bathrooms. Wash and vacuum car. Pack for Saturday and Sunday. Place ad in paper selling fridge and couch, chair and loveseat. In one week, the movers will be here. The day after, we will be headed down South.

I have zero desire to do anything. I’m thinking that if I didn’t have to pick up A from day care I think I could manage on the food left in the house for about a week. Got Cheerios, Apple Jacks, a can of tunafish, spaghetti and spaghetti sauce. Grape Juice. Stale bread and peanut butter. Frozen chicken thighs. 6 biscotti sticks. I’d close the shades, turn up the air conditioning and just go back to the way it used to be when I was one (eat, sleep, pee and poop).

It’s funny how when you’re depressed you know in the back of your mind that things can always get worse. You just don’t give a damn. Maybe I could dig one of my old Cure tapes out of a box and wallow. Too much effort. I’ll just pretend to buy things on the internet. The virtual equivalent of going to Neiman Marcus and telling the saleslady that you’d “like to put this on hold.”

Variations on a Theme

I'm tired. There's so much shit going on in my life that if I stop to contemplate it I'd be constipated until the sun went out. I fantasize about living in a sensory deprivation tank.

Nothing Going On But the Rent

And I paid it yesterday, although it pained me greatly. I don't feel like writing, but I feel like I have to. I was getting a kick out of writing for a while, but it's losing its luster, or maybe, like a snake, I'm shedding this skin so that I can grow a little bit more. After taking the digital storytelling class for the second time, I realized that although it's been fun to write here, this blog has been more like a journal that my friends and family read. And, honestly, I visit this page more than anyone. I think I'm ready to move on to the next iteration, which is spending more time writing and less time talking about my life. Of course, the more I write, the more I'm sure I'll notice how my life works its way in to my writing.