“Your affair hurts us as if you had hit us with a bus and hurts more because we know you saw us and didn’t stop. Carrying the affair on, lack of remorse are like reversing and hitting us again and dragging us under because you just don’t care enough to stop.”
Interestingly enough, I’m posting this, even though I’m in a good mood. I just stumbled across this quote on internets right now, and it was so fucking spot-on that I had to share it.
Just a short post about what I learned today, in haiku. But first, I will set it up with a picture:
Warhol's painting of a phone.
“Forgets” cell at work,
makes excuses to hang up.
Hint, hint: he hates you.
It’s not the most cheerful of posts, so in the interest of not being a complete downer, have a little dose of happy:
Do you wish you had more money or time?
While it might make me sound materialistic or shallow, my biggest issue as a single parent is money. I get a minimal amount of support money from the ex, and no part-time work I’ve applied for has yielded even a phone call. Companies aren’t exactly excited when they see the application of a woman who spent most of her 20’s out of the workforce.
I try to be frugal, and I balance my checkbook after every transaction, no matter how small. It’s fortunate that my parents opened their home to us, because what we get every month is about half of what rent would cost for an apartment. Currently, with no rent and only one or two small bills, we just about get by.
Still, living on a small stipend is pretty tricky. This is summer, which is the time of year that the ex gets decent bonuses at work. What he gives us is a portion of his bonuses, but when the bonuses dry up in fall/winter… Let’s just say that I’m not exactly yearning for more time, since most of it is spent worrying.
Imagine it’s August 2021 – what is your life like?
I turned 31 yesterday, and when I got this prompt from The Daily Post, I sort of chastised myself for neglecting to write here lately.
My life in 2021 is hard to imagine, because nothing I have ever imagined for my future has actually happened. That’s probably the case for most people, though, so I might as well have a go.
By the time I’m 41, I should already have been a nurse for at least a few years. I will probably still be living in my house, but it’ll be a different color. I don’t want to commit to a specific color, but let’s say red. I hope that both of my parents will still be alive, and that I will be taking care of them. My daughter will be in high school, and it is my hope that she’ll have a healthy level of rebelliousness; you know, nothing that gets her arrested, addicted, or pregnant.
That’s really all I can think of, and I’m kinda tired of sitting here.
It’s been almost two weeks since I last posted anything. I’m not at my best these days, but I’m surviving. When things are bleak, and you can’t even see the light at the end of the tunnel, much less reach it, your main (or perhaps only) goal should be to survive. Once you’ve done that, you can start moving toward feeling good again.
I haven’t been doing any Post A Day stuff, because it’s been one hell of a week. A few things that happened, in order of occurrence:
- I had to do my best to move the rest of our things out of his apartment.
- Got a message from an old friend that another old friend died. That makes 2 this year.
- Found out the last 2 years of my marriage were a lie; that my husband was actively looking for someone else that whole time.
- Had one strange evening where I cried, and all of my muscles seized up on me for a few hours. It really hurt.
- Really slacked on my exercise, due to items 1-3 sucking the motivation out of me.
- Went to the memorial service for my old friend.
Obviously, items 2 and 6 were the big ones. I won’t say how my old friend died, only that as I listened to the eulogies from those closest to him, I began to see layers of him that I never saw when we were younger. There were many feelings and worries he had that surprised me, because they’re feelings and worries that I have every day.
I watched his parents. The way they spoke about him, the way they received us. They were kind, strong, and grateful to see so many old friends turn up to say goodbye. The service was only an hour, but it was a beautiful tribute to the memory of a person who was truly kind, and good-natured.
Love is so short, forgetting is so long.
– Pablo Neruda
Unless you happen to be my estranged husband, in which case, forgetting is más rápido.
Combine this with the fact that the college I’m attending seems to fail pretty hard at checking their records, and the child support check my husband cut me has yet to clear after almost a week… And you have the perfect recipe for a day that can kiss my ass.
Another haiku, today.
All of a sudden
your personality changed
How did that happen?
Maybe this is really common, and I just haven’t seen much of it, but can a personality really change completely? I mean, to the point where you’re speaking to someone you’ve known forever, but you find yourself asking “who is this?”
I’m not talking about someone you haven’t seen in a while, mind you. I’m talking about someone you’ve seen pretty much every day, for many years, who seemed to suddenly change for no good reason.
I doubt many people read me at this point, but if you happen to be by here, maybe you can leave me a comment about this. Whether you think it’s common, or weird, or it’s happened to someone you care about, or you have no idea but just wanted to let me know I’m not the only one who wonders… I’d appreciate hearing from you.
I’ve been in kind of weird mood lately, a lot of really stressful things happening over the past couple of weeks, plus some revelations I was just not ready for. As a result, I haven’t updated, because all I wanted to write were haikus. And then I thought, hey, maybe I should post a haiku sometimes. So, here is one from today:
I had thought about
you never dancing with me
guess I’m better off
It’s nothing amazing, somehow I happened to just speak a haiku to myself in the shower. I was thinking about my estranged husband, and the fact that he never danced with me. I realized that this is pretty basic stuff, and that there was a lot of basic stuff I missed out on.
I think it’s time for me to sit down and list those things. I’ll carry that list with me, and remind myself that anyone who would deny me these things, is someone I shouldn’t still be crying over.
Do you prefer the aisle or window when traveling? Why?
I prefer the window, and my reason is not nearly as poetic as I’d like it to be: I don’t like butts passing by my head.
I mean, it’s not a big deal if I get an aisle seat, but it’s not something I want, either.