Ms. Tigger and I on the happiest day...
I guess that the Wellbutrin is starting to take effect because I’m starting to “feel”. I’m such a fucking unhappy person. I’m finding that my anxiety is crazy lately. I don’t think that I’m going to be happy with anyone or myself until I start loving my inner self. Right now, I don’t, but I’m starting to.
I’m just here today with entirely too many thoughts going on in my head. AHHHH!!!!
There’s the Hearts against Aids thing that I’d like to go to tonight, but…
I need to get my tires fixed.
I need a new windshield and that scratch on my passenger door needs to be fixed.
I new a new top put on my car. (This leaking shit EVERY time it rains sucks!!)
I new a new job, BAD!!
I need to go on a shopping spree. Soon!
I need some stability.
Tigger needs stability.
I need to get online and check out plain tickets and hotel prices. Too much!!
You’d think that I had the pressures of curing cancer on my mind or something.
I’ve been thinking about my age more than usual lately. I’ll be 28 on March 11th. That’s only two years from thirty. (Not that I think that thirty is old, because I don’t.) Thinking back, I thought that I’d be living an entirely different life than I am. I should be an RN by now. I thought that I’d be married to the love of my life (or at least know him) by now. I thought that I’d have children by now. I always wanted my first before I was thirty, maybe even two.
Of course, I’ll have my son first. (You know ‘cause it’s like Burger King and you can have it your way.) Then I’d have my daughter. They’d be the most gorgeous children that I’ve ever seen. They would be the product of the parent’s undying love for each other. (I can’t even express the feeling that I get just thinking about them.) The older brother would be there to look out for his younger sister. I know that she’s going to hate it, but Mommy’s going to love it!! (Not too many guys want to date their friend’s little sister. Ha! Sorry Darling!)
I just don’t see me ever having the “happy little family” that I’ve always dreamed of. I guess that since my childhood was so fucked; I’ve always wanted that “normal” happy family. You know one where the parents are cool. (They truly love each other and have the exact same goals when it comes to love, life, and happiness. You know, kind of like Steven and Elyse Keaton from Family Ties
. (You know they were taking bhong hits upstairs right?) We will never get a d-i-v-o-r-c-e. Our children would be perfect. I know that everyone says that, but ours would be. They’d be smart, beautiful, athletic, and intellectual. They’re everything to me/us.
I used to even have their names picked out for them. I imagined us in the cutest house with my big front porch with the swing. Being the green thumb that I am, we have beautiful flowers everywhere outside. (There are so many flowers that you can barely see the grass.) I have my tulip garden and every color of flower that you could ever imagine. (The neighbors only wish that their yard looked as good as ours!)
Get this, my husband like to garden too. We love to wake up early (or not) on Sundays. After we have grrrreat sex, (We tend to have better sex in the morning for some reason.) he then starts a pot of coffee. After we’ve lay in bed and smoked a little (hey, it’s Sunday, a day to relax.) while having our first cup of coffee. I get up and start breakfast while starring out the window at all of my birds, eating from their many feeders in the yard. (I always have quite a gathering.) My husband reads the paper while discussing the current events with me. We enjoy our breakfast and start our day. I’m fortunate because today instead of working on his second book; he’s going to play outside with me.
We then smoke and go outside and smoke our cigarettes drink plenty of water, and play in the garden while wearing that lovely straw hat with my cute little garden gloves. He helps me get the weeds out and see if any of the plants need to be replaced. A couple of hours before the sun goes down; we sit on our front porch and admire our work while enjoying a cigarette and a glass of wine. I wouldn’t even call it work; I’d just call it good quality time spent with the one you love.
It’s now time to go inside and get cleaned up. What better way than a bubble bath for two? We have dinner while listening to an assortment of music. (Between the two of us, we pretty much like everything.) When it’s time for bed, I (or we) wash my face, brush my teeth, moisturize, and hop into bed. Knowing that we’re going to wake up in the morning and have some fucking wonderful fucking doesn’t stop us from attempting to having a little before bed. We snuggle up to each other and sleep soundly. (We fit well together; we are the perfect size for each other. Like a good pair of jeans.) While I’m lying there, I’m thinking to myself how lucky we are to have had such a perfect day. Lucky indeed!
**I had this dream last night. (The night before last because it’s now Sunday!) It was similar to what I described earlier. I had the perfect little house with flowers, porch, and all. There was the cutest, sassiest little girl that I’ve ever seen. She was dressed up like a princess with a paint brush in hand running through the house. I asked her, “What are you doing?” She then looked at me like I were an idiot and replied, “Um, Mom, I'm painting before I sit down to write.” (Oh. O.k. the girl was 4, maybe 6, at the most.) Then she just pranced away reminding me of myself as a young princess.
As I walked through the house, it was perfect. It was so NN, but it was us too. Where Daddy is was what I was thinking. I walked all through the house. I saw pictures of us as a family, but couldn’t make out his face. I never saw him, but felt happy, as if he’d been there and was going nowhere. I felt like the Keatons.** (Dream over)
What I’m thinking is that maybe you don’t need the man. I mean we need his sperm, but that’s about it. I really do think that I could do this by myself. If he doesn’t WANT to be there, then we certainly won’t beg. WOW! I feel all clear headed, as if I’ve had some great revelation. Deep, NN, this is some pretty deep shit. Ha! Ha! “Deep shit!”
Who’d thought that I would learn about this today of all days? (You know with it being National Hugh Jackman Day and all.)