Let's just call it all off, shall we?

As much as I wanted to cancel the 24th, it seems the next day is where things got truly disgusting.

So, do we remember how I mentioned that the boyfriend broke his finger on the job? Well, he did. Then they fired him. Supposedly it was because the whole thing was a safety issue, but who in the world is going to turn off something they're not working on so that they can work on the thing they did turn off? Ugh.

So now he's out of work, and he can't get something new until after the surgery to repair his finger, and the necessary healing period. FUN.

Now it's just after three in the morning, and he's going to be up in three hours for a slew of doctor visits. Unfortunately this week I won't be going with him, because the first one is earlier than I'd like to wake up Darth Boy for.

Oh, also, about five hours ago, I broke my damned glasses. That's the second pair in about six months. Yay me!

Not a morning person.

Today is cancelled.
July 24th and I are no longer on speaking terms, and it's only a quarter to six in the morning.

It's a two pot of coffee kind of day, which doesn't mean the same for me as it does for most people. You see, I only really drink a cup of coffee every now and then, and today I won't be drinking any. It's a two pot kind of day, because the first pot game out full of grounds.

Please, oh please, let everything go up from here.

Strength

I started writing this post in my head while my boyfriend was being X-Ray-ed at the Orthopaedist this afternoon. Last weekend he broke one of his knuckles on a conveyor at work. I've spent the days between trying to reassure him. He's the kind of guy who worries endlessly, afraid that he'll lose his job. He's very emotional, and it can be hard to talk him down out of his emotional tree sometimes. I hate doctors, and have had to sit in two waiting rooms this week, watching him deal with snarly receptionists, and seeing the defeat in his eyes. He's not the kind of person to just take things easy, and having even just that one finger out of commission is driving him batty, and in turn, driving me batty. I know I can't do any more for him than I already am, but now we both feel useless.

After today's appointment, it turns out he needs surgery to repair the break, and he is devastated. I'm not the optimistic sort, but right now I have to be. He's worrying and I am having to fight any worries I have. It's not a big deal, just a little work to make sure things heal, but he acts like he's going to lose his finger, and I am having to support him. Alone. It's times like this that I wish we had more of a social network, people who could listen to me talk about what is happening, and people he could talk to so that I wasn't his only friendly ear.

Red, Orange, colorized impact

We've been working to limit or exclude Red #40 from LF's diet. (You know what, from here on out let's call him Darth Boy, that is so much more like him these days.) As I was saying, Darth Boy is quite active. I find that too much one on one time with him is exhausting, as he is a chatterbox in the extreme, and always bouncing around. I enjoy that my darling little Padawan is not lethargic or sedentary, but OOOOOH BOY, I just can't always handle it.

We noticed as summer vacation was underway, that he seemed especially rambunctious. Like, crawling the walls rambunctious. Mr. Sasspants (I think that works as a name for the boyfriend. Shush, I like it!) fingered the Kool-Aid right off the bat. We've been a little more health conscious than I have ever really been before, and was willing to see if we could pin it down as the culprit. Tazo make this herbal blend called Passion, that I like iced, and Darth Boy likes in just about any form he can get it. I bought extra stores of it and a large gallon pitcher, to start keeping it around in greater quantity especially since I am the sole maker of the beverages for our house.

It's been a week, and we are living with a different child. He is no longer getting out of his chair as much during dinner (which irked me like you could only imagine.) His attention span seems improved, and we couldn't be more relieved. It's going to take a lot more effort from me, now that I can't just tell him to make himself a pitcher of something to drink when he's thirsty and eyeing the good stuff. I think I can handle it, for the sake of my own mental well being, anyway.

Subject lines aggravate my first line anxiety

When I get up early, and the boyfriend is at work, I read blogs. I read pages and pages, then follow a link and read more pages. I meet more and more people each weekend, I read their tales of joy and sadness, of humor and humility. I read, and I am in awe.

I don't think I have anything at all to say, anything any more compelling or interesting than any of the people I have come across, and that seems terribly sad to me. I'm here anyway. I've come to the party and will stand here against the wall and watch. Someday I'll get the hang of being a part of things, I hope.
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I said that my life has changed, and it has. When I started this blog I was married, and I let my job as wife and mother dictate who I was. My best friend and roommate was the only person who knew how to find the real me behind the facade.

The facade started crumbling shortly after I started this blog, so I abandoned it. My husband was a liar who broke my heart repeatedly, until I was beaten down so much that I called it quits. I had my job, and my son, and an apartment that we were being evicted from. I was going to survive. I told him to go on and run back to his parents without me. To let me live my life without all of his BS. I told him to just go, and to leave me alone.

I was lonely, and lost. I had plans, terrible plans. I was going to move nearer to a married man and continue the affair we were having. I was going to give up on my life in New York and just be some lousy mistress. I threw my morality to the wind and was going to accept what was readily available. I am too insecure to be alone.
I met a boy in a chat room. I told myself it was too soon. My friends told me that it couldn't be too soon, because my marriage was over long before my separation became physical. I met a boy.

I learned that I deserved better than what I had been living with, I was taught that I was worth more than just being some man's side thing. I was forced to face that I was breaking my own beliefs about commitment and love in order to accept a situation I didn't deserve. I decided not to move to Chicago. I moved in with my father instead. The boy I met was the only person willing to help me gather the majority of my things in the time I had. He was the only one who understood how badly I was struggling to just keep going.

I quit my job.
I moved in with him, to avoid the constant barrage of criticism from my father.
And to love, and be loved.

My family tells me I sound happy now. My friends notice the addition of smiles to my pictures.

I'm happy. I'm happy and still kind of lonely. Not for love, of course, but for camaraderie. I've left my friends and family behind, and now I need a place to belong.

When I wake up early, I read blogs...

It's been a long road

In the past few months, I've tried more than once to regain this blog. I'd try for an hour or two, and give up. It's not that important, I'd think, and just let it go. I was wrong, though, to me this is kind of important.

I've watched and read, lurked and de-lurked, on so many blogs for so long. I'd laugh and cry with them, and hide in obscurity, with no voice of my own. This changes now.

I'm cleaning out the old place, and things are so very different now. We'll revisit Little Fascist, though he's hardly little anymore, and not so much a fascist these days either. We'll get to talk about all of the things I have been through, the things LF and I have lived through together.

We'll talk about my impending divorce, and my hopes for the relationship I fell into entirely too soon. I'll talk, and maybe someone will listen. I'll de-lurk more often, and maybe become friends with these people I know so well, who have never really met me.

I'll give it a good honest try, and hope for the best. That's how you all started out too, right?