Rumors of my demise, and all that...

My inbox is full of concerned messages. Bless your hearts, the dear ones in my life are afraid I may have fallen back into the black pit of despair. No, it's not that.

I've been thinking of all of you -worried that you might be worried. Every once in a while, a blog post would pop into my head. There was the one about being an ally to my gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgendered friends, family, and co-inhabitors of the planet. It was going to be brilliant, I'm quite sure. See? I even had a picture.






Then there was the one about the ongoing home repairs, trying to make this house into the functional, warm, welcoming place I know it could be. I'm not quite sure how I was going to make fixing the toilet brilliant, but funny was probably within reach. If Victoria and I can't figure it out -which we couldn't quite- then she invites people over to help her. They are apparently so smitten with her that they will even do this. There must be a joke here somewhere.












Then there are dear friends who dropped by and seem not to worry too much that I still don't have furniture. That one was going to be touching and heart-warming. Trust me.



And in other news.... I'm going to tear down the garage. Well, I'm going to have the garage torn down. And rebuilt. And I have a new personal trainer. Something has to be done about my physical health. I think this is going to be good. She's very gentle and attentive and supportive -with no tone of "For crying out loud, how did you let this happen???!". What else? Well, maybe I shouldn't tell you everything in one post. There could be more blogging left to be done.

Of course, none of those posts made it from fleeting thought to the keyboard. Work, research, writing, trying to keep myself pulled together... it's taking all I have and a little more. So, every day I get a smidge more behind. It's not a pretty sight around here, but it's not darkness and despair. Very far from that.

I think at some point I may have publicly said that I wanted to be really, really busy, because I didn't want to sit home alone and brood. OK, be very careful what you tell the universe you want. This is perhaps just a smidge more than I had in mind. Perhaps balance is the next lesson in the queue.

I'm Not Your Wife

I feel like a huge cranky-pants bitch, but I think -for once- I'm actually not. Cue the stunned silence, I know!

Mail for Dave periodically comes to the house. If it's not clearly junk, I forward it or arrange for one of the kids to deliver it. But really.... he hasn't lived in this house for two and half years. YEARS!! I'm thinking that he could have filed a change of address form by now.

And today I got a phone call on my cell phone -a reminder call from the dentist that he has an appointment tomorrow. I was reaching for the computer to send him e-mail, and then I thought.... "for the love of Mike, I'm not his wife. Stop acting like it."

I'm throwing away the mail, and I'm ignoring the phone call. I'm not going out of my way to block his forward motion, but I don't have to do his work for him. He either needs to get another wife or do the work himself.

That's my story, and I'm sticking to it.