Saturday, October 11, 2008

The Dance

Breathe...2...3...
Sigh...2...3...
Start Again

Once was a woman
wished that she wasn't
welcoming wisdom
through failure.

Up...2...3...
Down...2...3...
Begin

Mention the moment
it all came together:
It's All come apart!
He's fleeing the scene!

Left...2...3...
Right...2...3...
Rewind

Lost in the loss.
Absence of gravity.
No connectivity;
Living offline.

In...2...3...
Out...2...3...
Breathe

Fleeting fidelity,
Forced into maturity
What can the matter be?
Find a new tune.

Start...2...3...
End...2...3...
Begin.
Again.

Saturday, October 4, 2008

Home sweet...gone

Sold the house. My house; our house. Signed the papers the other day, without any consideration of the implications. Just another signature, same one I use to sign for a parcel or a leave form at work. So, as of December 15, my birthday, I will be homeless. Oh, I know I am not REALLY homeless, as I appreciate how blessed I am compared to many. But let me wallow for a moment without being an understanding, left-leaning, social worker; I WILL NOT HAVE AN ADDRESS. For the first time, ever. The plan is thus: if I get a job in Vancouver prior to that date, I will be moving to Vancouver. Buy or rent, not sure--depends on what the market is doing (and I soooo don't understand anything related to economics. I am still at the "why don't they just print more money" stage.). If nothing comes up in Vancouver, then I and my two best furry friends move in with Mom (they know her as Granny). This is a place I last lived in when I was 17 years old. In December this year I will be 43. Not a bad thing, I mean, I LOVE my mom. She's awesome, a peach. But somehow the idea of waking up in my old bedroom, which has remained the same as when I left it (complete with Wayne Gretzky posters on the wall---I was a Canadian teenage girl after all, of course I was in love with a hockey player---okay, I still am, but that's a secret) makes me crave an Ativan and a a glass of wine. Anxiety encompasses me. I know I will be fine, but really, if I have to change my address officially to the one I used before I was old enough to vote.....?

I am trying very hard to live in the moment, experience the present, not freak out about the looming, dark, vacuous future. But here's the thing: it is very hard to plan for the future, to take care of the things that need taking care of without thinking about it. So, today I went around and divided the house into lists: sell, keep, give away, junk and ?. After, when all of my/our possessions were classified, I dissolved into a messy, soggy, noisy mass of tears. As I lie on the bed, wailing away, Peaches came up and settled her little wise self against me, purring and warm. I woke up two hours later, soggy pillow, puffy eyes and no further in my tasks.

Where does it come from? Where do I get this strength/resolve/emotional numbness so that I can do what needs to be done. I'm freakin' out here. What if I don't get it in time. This place belongs to someone else on December 15.

All I want for my birthday is an address.