March 13, 2012

waiting...

My oldest son called me the other day. He'd dreamt I'd run away from home and moved to Uganda.

While running away has crossed my mind lately, Uganda is probably one of the last places I'd run to. I told him if I ever run away I'm going to go be a waitress at a truck stop in Wyoming.
"Oh, that will improve your life." he replied.

(I shouldn't of told him that because now they'll all know where to look for me when I...)

The problem with running away is that the thing I most want to get away from would have to come along. I'd have to drag me along.

I need a plumber or some duct tape. I've been like a leaky pipe lately-tears always quite close to the surface, seeping out almost continually. I even made a list of "10 Things That Make Me Cry" just for you but in a moment of clarity I realized for Pete's sake, you can't post that. No one wants to read about what makes you cry. Aren't you glad I have moments of clarity occasionally?

I'm thinking I'll have to blame my homeopathy guy for this. It seems like more than a coincidence that this seepy-pipe thing started as soon as he put me on a new concoction he'd whipped up in his laboratory to help with some hormonal issues I've been having. (Being a woman of a certain age, (of any age actually) is a pain sometimes, you know?) But, I can step back, look at my leaky self and say Oh dry up. There's nothing to cry about. That's what makes me think it's hormonal. If I were really depressed I wouldn't be logical about it, would I? My homeopathy guy said it would take a couple months for things to even out and level off. All I have to say about that is, well...hmm....this is going to be fun.

I had to kick my husband out the door this morning. I asked him what I should write about and just like a man he said, "Write about Peyton Manning."

"I don't know anything about Peyton Manning. I know he's a good football player. He injured his neck. He got fired."

"He is football...."

"Goodbye dear. Drive carefully."

Now that I think about it, maybe that's what you'd rather read about? Peyton Manning...Well, I'm sorry. I just told you everything I know about the guy.

Instead, you get leaky pipes, dreams of duct tape and running away from myself, moments of clarity and me waiting...and waiting...and....

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