“Do you know," Peter asked, "why swallows build in the eaves of houses? It is to listen to the stories.” ~ J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan

5.25.2010

coming home

i come home and here i stand, on this piece of pavement, not even a porch, not even level, it slopes downward, and i stand under the porchlight and my mind is full of too much, it is never empty when i stand here, i am always hurried and feeling late, just beginning to be more comfortable with the knowledge that late is what i want it to be, i no longer need to be home at a certain time, freedom's just another word for nothing left to lose and all that, and i am even thinking that as i hurry to get the key in the lock and the groceries in the door. i am thinking i am just not hungry anymore, but i need to eat and oh, the deciding what to eat when you're never hungry, when the only thing that sounds good is a dark chocolate peanut butter cup, of which i keep none in the house because i eat them all up when i buy them, and so supper is a chicken sandwich, and not the real chicken, the fake stuff, the cold-cuts chicken that i don't even want to think too much about; i once knew someone who worked in a processing plant for chickens and lunch meats and well, her stories were not pleasant. i make the sandwich anyway and find that the tomato has frozen, so use a couple of pickles instead and not even a plate, just paper towels, and a styrofoam cup for my coke, and i think this isn't the way you should treat yourself, you should use real dishes, but the ice stays icy in a styrofoam cup and the sink is already full of dirty dishes, and later, for dessert, i even use a plastic bowl and spoon for cereal with strawberries. it should be better, it should be different, i tell myself, you should be nicer to yourself, all the magazines say so, you should have a real meal, you should set the table, light a candle, but this is the real world out here, and it is 8 o'clock when i get home and though i am not tired, i am dragging, feeling the loneliness beginning to fill my chest, and not just loneliness for maggie, but also loneliness for the upcoming weekend, time off from work at last, the ever-wonderful michael gone somewhere else, somewhere i would be unhappy, and i can think of nothing i want to do except get in the jeep and drive and see where i end up and hope there is room at the inn when i get there. but there is lily cat to be fed and that limits time and i use that for my excuse, she is good for 2 or 3 days by herself, but then she will need me, no one else is there. i read a blog or two, i feel so behind, and i check in on facebook, and i return emails and it is 10 o'clock and my hair needs washed and i can tell i will be awake late. there used to be some joy here, i think, but it seems so long ago. my copy of little women is in 3 pieces, i have had it since i was a child, and i just put it aside, i lay it on the floor and walk away.

12 comments:

  1. i wish i was a short drive away....i would love for you to come for a visit !

    and next time...use the real dishes....it can make eating so much better....i'm not a big eater at all and took me years to figure this out :)

    ReplyDelete
  2. Oh, I know that kind of tired, eat any thing in any way mode...& I would say, without recrimination, do anything that feels ok. Eat whatever, however (+ p.s. finish w/ that dark chocolate Reeses!!)
    Come back to Little Women later. Listen to some music & talk to Maggie. She hears you.
    Love you!!!

    ReplyDelete
  3. a beautiful post* it made my heart nod, cry and smile a bit.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Oh, thank you all. Just a bad day, a feeling sorry for myself day. I am better this morning, re-reading How Stella Got Her Groove Back, and while I'm not headed for Jamaica or looking to find a young man, it is cheering me up. :)

    ReplyDelete
  5. i love when you write like this... like one big long run-on sentence... but in the most eloquent way, because that is often how my thoughts and my mind work... just strings of thoughts that run on and melt into each other.

    even your bad day, feeling sorry for yourself thoughts are beautiful. and always relatable for those of us in the real world where not every day is perfect and pretty.

    p.s. i say keep the p.b. cups in the house! peanut butter is the good kind of fat and dark chocolate is goof for cholesterol. and the combination of both is good for the soul!

    ReplyDelete
  6. Oh, I feel breathless reading this and I so get it. Stop thinking about the shoulds! You do what feels right, knowing that when you feel better you will make choices that feel right then too!

    Can you see your wings in the picture? They're there!

    Take good care of you.
    xo

    ReplyDelete
  7. Oh gosh, oh dear, oh I know that feeling, all those feelings and what is there to do, when, as I said in my post last week, "there is nothing there"? But some days are like that and some days are better and some days are wonderful. You, my dear, are due for some wonderful, it is coming, it is coming...and that photo, it is already there.

    ReplyDelete
  8. it can be overwhelming at times..running away sounds good I will be the redhead waiting on I30 for you and Bobby McGee...

    ReplyDelete
  9. I know very much how all this feels. And do take a drive--maybe it is a Texan thing, maybe it is just me, but I always feel so much better as soon as I get out of town. Something soothing and restoring about a short, unplanned journey into the wide and beautiful world. You are in my thoughts.

    ReplyDelete
  10. Debi. You are adorable.
    You really are.
    Plastic bowls and styrofoam cups and all.
    I love you.

    ReplyDelete
  11. When you get in the car and drive, point it toward Missouri. I'll leave the light on for you. When you get here, you won't have to say a word. Just stumble inside. I'll write you in a warm hug and lead you to a quiet guest room. You can sleep deeply after eating your cookies. But, when you wake up. Watch out. You'll have an eight year old to talk your ear off and beg you to come swing with her. It'll be great. Just head this way anytime.

    ReplyDelete
  12. i have read this 3 different times and could not comment until now and all i can manage to say is...that is me on many days and your wordsmith ways touched me deeply.

    xo

    ReplyDelete

come. sit under the emma tree & let's talk. i have cookies . . .