I’m not sure what to write today. It’s a gray day out and I feel I need to do something to get me up and running.
I’m fighting the coffee monster. I LOVE coffee, but it doesn’t like me. It makes me swell, gives me headaches within 12-24 hours if I don’t drink another cup and I get really cranky when I’m coming off of it. But the smell, the feel of it in my mouth, the warmth and taste is just too much of a siren song for me, especially on gray days. Those days, with their slightly damp chill in the air are the perfect days for a fresh pot of brew in the kitchen, some good music and time to reflect on how things are going.
What I would prefer would be that gray days meant I was a powerhouse worker, flying through the piles on my desk and whipping out spreadsheets, emails and reports, so that the sunny days would be free to wander in the woods or take care of things outside of the house. But for some reason, gray days just don’t seem as productive. I want to revert to when the kids were in the living room, playing games or watching tv and I would be baking something. We used to bake a LOT. Kids would come in and “help” for a bit and then disappear licking their fingers, only to return when they wanted to “help” again. It was ok with me. The measuring, the mixing, the smells from the coffee pot mixed with fresh cookies being baked blended with the chatter of small voices and random giggles were the stuff of my life. I miss them.
Now the Dr. says baked goodies are ok, as long as I give them away. The living room is quiet and the most I have to compare to the sound of kids in the house is the occasional spat the cat and dog get into. Sometimes I revel in the quiet. Sometimes I’m a bit lonely. All the time it gives my brain a chance to think. You know, there is something to be said for the old adage, “Sometimes you think too much.”
This weekend is my son’s 22 birthday. Hard to believe, but every year I say that. He planned his own party this year and invited us. It was kind of strange, but really, for this child, it was the best way to go. No one else ever seems to be able to provide for him the kind of party he wants, so it’s best to just attend. I’ll make dinner for him on Sunday and we’ll have a cake or something then. And his sister will be coming home to spend the weekend with him, so that’ll be good to see her. I miss her, she still likes to cuddle.
All in all life isn’t bad now, it’s just so different. And it’s changed even more than I ever expected. I’m still very happy with my job, and my family is always first, but my friend base has changed somewhat and while I still feel a bit bereft by this change, I’m going out with a few friends tonight for a girls night out and I’m really looking forward to it. And I talked to an old friend the other day, and he made me laugh so hard that I felt bad that I hadn’t talked to him as much in these past years. I guess it was all the time and effort required by others that limited my time in developing and maintaining other relationships that made things difficult, but now that that isn’t a problem anymore, and while I can’t say I don’t miss them terribly, I’m not feeling guilty all the time or like I’m being torn in many little pieces by how I wasn’t able to be everything to everyone. Now I can focus on being me and catching up with dear old friends and developing relationships with new ones.
Such is the ever-changing path we wander in out lives, eh?