Time's A- Wasting

Dear Lorenzo,

I have no idea what I'm supposed to write about.

It's Monday, 10:31 p.m. and I was supposed to be here, sitting in front of this very computer, approximately 16 1/2 hours ago but...

This time it was the dishes.

Last night, after getting in late from celebrating Mother's Day at Dwight and Danielle's house, I couldn't muster the energy to do the dishes and so, as usual, I had to do them as soon as I got out of bed this morning. 

During my writing time.

And as soon as the dishes were done I had to get on the elliptical for my obligatory 45 minutes because God forbid I don't work out, depriving myself of the endorphins I crave before beginning a long day of work and parenting. 

It ain't pretty.

And after the workout, it all snowballed from there.

As it always does.

I had to activate my new phone in order to have it ready for my 10:00 a.m. meeting with my boss. I had to get Amira up and conscious enough to get through the day productively. I had to give the dog her damn-near, hour-long walks (WALKS, PLURAL) because she refuses to go with anyone else in this house. (I know, I know, she's spoiled rotten). With all of this in addition to proofreading a paper for a dear friend, cooking and putting in an 8 hour work day, I have every reason in the world to not bother writing today.

Except...

That's what I've done my entire life.

I haven't bothered.

And where has it gotten me?

Not where I want to be.

So...

I'm somewhere between 16 1/2 hours and 30 some odd years late to my computer...

Late to my life but...

I'm here now.

To stay.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Dear Mom

Dear Mom, I suppose that the act of writing this letter means I'm starting to accept that you're gone. I don't know how I'm supposed to live without my mother. You didn't prepare me for this. I've spent my entire life worrying about you in some form or fashion. Worrying about what you'd think of whatever rash decision I was certain to be on the precipice of making. Worrying about your ever-worsening health. Worrying about whether or not you'd notice the weight I'd either lost or gained since we'd seen each other last.  (Spoiler Alert: You always noticed. Carefully worded reprimands if I'd gained, exuberant congratulations for a loss, unfortunately it's taken me years to rid myself of the habit of worrying about my weight before a trip home. But one good thing has come from this experience. I've made damn sure that my daughter knows I will ALWAYS welcome her home with open arms, and will never, EVER comment, or give a flying fuck, abou...
Read more

Goodbye (For Real This Time)

Dear Mum, I was so busy mourning you that I didn't have time to fully acknowledge the loss of my relationship with Cap.  It's finally hitting me now. I can accept the fact that he doesn't want me anymore and I have with as much grace as I can. I asked him to fall back in August 2024 and he has done so. But I still hear from him almost daily. Mostly through text messages on a group chat he created with me and Fareeda.  This is how he keeps in touch. It's how he holds on. I usually don't reply to his political rantings and unfunny reels but he knows that I read them. And we Marco Polo about once a week.  All neutral topics. The kids, our jobs, how much we loathe Trump.  No mention of us. Who we were. What we lost. Who we have to pretend to be now in order to remain in each other's lives. He doesn't want to have those conversations. He doesn't do difficult which means he obviously can't be in a relationship. At least not with me. So though I'm mour...
Read more

Untitled

I don't have a mother anymore and yet...  Somehow, I'm still expected to live my life. Normally. Like a full-fledged, rational human being except... I'm not. Grief isn't rational. I wake up every morning with the same sense of loss, with the deepest HOLLOW I've ever experienced. I have Amira, of course and I truly thank God every day for that miracle. I have Amira and Fareeda and Jewel but...  Both of my parents are gone now. I don't have a mother anymore. I don't have my mother. There are no more doctors to call, no more prescriptions to fill, no new medications to try because my mother is gone. Resting in peace at last. But... I haven't gotten there yet. To the peaceful part. Most of the time, what I feel is loss.  It's most acute, most palpable when I'm in Cambridge. I've been back only once since my mother died and hope not to return anytime soon.  I went "home" to Cambridge for Little Desi's 30th birthday party but I staye...
Read more