I realize that life is now pretty good for me. I seem to have quelled the urge to do crazymaking to get attention (though it always seems to lurk under the surface), and I don't really enjoy making my fish friend swim away at the sight of my bared teeth.
I'm actually enjoying the fact that we can all swim in the ocean without having to feed on one another.
So here we head into another chapter for me: living peacefully in the midst of potential turmoil.
Ocean journaling for tonight:
I made it home in the snow and yucky roads in one piece and no skirmishes with any crazy drivers. I arrived at the house to find Mr. Wonderful's garage door open for my entry--since the big door is broken. He moved his truck to my spot and graciously offered his door opener to me until he can fix the spring mechanism himself (which is not broken).
I walked in the door tonight, meaning to adopt my Bob Barker alter ego--but was very distracted by Bob greeting me instead!
Who'd have thought!
Mr. Normally-Depressed-MLC turned around at the stove and said overly enthusiastically, "HI BETSEY!" I tried not to look shocked or retreat (like he does) so I dumped my crap on the counter and smiled right back at Bob's blonde friend... "HI, MR. WONDERFUL! HOW WAS YOUR DAY?"
He responded in a more anti-climatic voice, "Pretty good, and it's about to get better since I'm going out to dinner and having a few beers and don't have to pay!"
Uh, I guess so. I had planned on lasagne, but he started the box of Kraft... and since the girls had their hearts set on Mac & Cheese, I wasn't about to play Grinch. He goes out and I get the kidz meal. UGH!
He left with a huge grin and said cheerfully and loud, "SEE YOU ALL BRIGHT AND EARLY TOMORROW MORNING!"
WTF? Who sent him the Bob script?
Before I sign off, I will tell you another convo I had with him earlier this afternoon... I had to answer his voicemail about the garage door update.
MW: "Did a birthday card arrive in yesterday's mail from my folks?"
Me: Sober as a church mouse. "No. Would they have sent it to your apartment?"
MW: "Uh, no, because I've never given them that address."
He tried to sound chipper but I could read right through my fish friend.
MW: "I guess I shouldn't be too surprised that they didn't send anything or call. At least my brother called. I couldn't speak long, though, because I was bowling."
His optimistic tonality made me sad. He sobered up a bit and proceeded.
MW: "Bets, please don't tell D9, okay?"
Me: "Mr. W., I make it a habit of not talking about them at all to her unless I can say something neutral or pleasant. I wouldn't do that."
MW: "I know. I just don't want her to know this at all, though."
Me: "I understand. I'm so sorry. It makes no sense to me. I promise I'm going to work hard at forgiving them for hurting you so much."
MW: "I know Mom can't see and obviously can't drive. Maybe Dad's got something up his ass and didn't feel like shopping for a card."
Me: "Or calling?"
MW: Sort of sad now. "Or that either."
Me: "Damn it, K, this really torques me. You're their son and they say they love you. How hard is it to just call?"
MW: "I really don't know, Bets. I do know that the cards and e-mails I got were from your family, though."
Ah, so you do notice that.
If D9 finds out, she will never speak to them again...
Oh well, no sense in trying to make sense out of that school of fish--because they make none.
Time to tend to my little ones here. Have a good evening!
Betsey
"There are only 2 ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle."
