Today was spent chipping away at the list and now the perseverance is wearing thin and the list grows long like the light left in today, so I'm going to quit while I'm ahead and have a cup of coffee now and breathe for a few minutes before I dive into the dinner/dogwalk/kid-bath minirush of early evening. Four to about eight is a whirlwind in which the minutes tick by at a dizzying pace. I can't keep up, hell, I can't even keep track and suddenly the house is plunged into dark and quiet again and I am alone with my thoughts once more. That should not be allowed to happen, because my thoughts are like a bad date, they barge right in and then I can't get them to leave and I feel threatened and helpless. It's better just to keep moving and then drop. Get up and do it all over again.
Dear radio, please stop playing New Fang. I'm pleading on aching knees here. Please, vultures, release a new single.
I am sticking to this list because if I stray from it everything becomes so overwhelming I start to sink into the ground when I walk, stiletto heels first, though these days I live in my old pink camouflage converse all-stars. High tops, yes. A ridiculous small size of course because I have little feet. A wonderful feature when you have to tip-toe over five-hour-old varathane on a ninety-seven year old floor because you left a bunch of things in your bedroom, which is on the other side of that freshly-painted floor. Sigh.
So far so good. I am running a list for Ben too, because in nine days he is home again. The big white bird will spit him back into my arms for more time and it's already sorely needed but I'm beginning to have some hope that I am not stuck here forever. Sometimes it seems like it, especially when it's dark and cold.
On that note, we're up to three minutes, twenty-five seconds of extra daylight each day. It's now light out from about seven-thirty to well after six each night which is an absolute godsend of a different sort. I'm not unaware of the five weeks remaining in the winter but five weeks isn't insurmountable now, is it?
Depends on who you ask.
Speaking of others, Ben is doing well. I like it that he tells me of the harder parts and what he does to counteract them. Then I can try the same tricks and fail but at least I come away with knowing what makes him tick a little better. You would think after this long that I would know everything but I don't. Do we ever? Does he know everything about how I am? Well, of course he does. Sigh.
So much for that argument. In any case, absences do get easier and time heals all whatever. I'm numb, more likely. Numb and better within that numb to the point where the keening panic became a wooden ambivalence that leaves splinters behind when you try to run your hand across it. Self-preservation is an amazing mechanism and I am lucky to have it an any form at this point. A gift horse with a rather large and endless mouth, but I'm not looking into it, I just take what I am given and say thank you.
I read a quote yesterday about the school of hard knocks and I can't remember what it was. It might have been on Travis Barker's twitter. No, shoot. It was on someone's twitter. Twitter moves fast but it's like company you don't have to sit up straight for. I will keep looking for it, it was a great quote and I laughed and then I agreed with it. Twitter is always open on a tab now. The entertainment value is limitless.
And my mom made cookies and sent them to us, which just about sent Henry into spasms, he loves his Nana's chocolate-chip cookies and I always like the letters and stories and pictures she puts into them. Those boxes are my mom's version of Twitter, I think. Pretty cool. Thank you, mom.
I must go. I need match a paint color before I lose the light. Tomorrow's Thursday and there will be eight sleeps left and Vampire girl can sleep again, for a short while.
Vampire boy will be here keeping watch, and that is what I'm living for these days.
