i vacillate

between acceptance and rage. between pity and hatred. between self-loathing and grace. a less than casual observer might see my ambivalence.

picking up the pieces has been difficult. i expect it will become more difficult as time passes. and then less.

even the garbage cans that are put out on the curb every wednesday were donated by my parents. even the garbage cans.

it took me an hour to scrape the bumper sticker off my car with my thumb nail.

i have lots of guilt. for not saving it in its whole form. for letting my family and friends down. for stealing a year of my babies' childhood to do something that was wildly successful but which also failed.

i didn't have an exit strategy.

neither does the bush administration.

i don't allow myself excuses. instead, i beat myself about the head because i should have known better. i should have protected us all better. my father's habit for plodding detail never rubbed off on me. maybe rubbing off would have been too subtle for someone like me. i get it now.

in the past two weeks i've read eat, pray, love; the history of love; and harry potter 6 and 7. i've also painted two end tables and an armoire and painstakingly cleaned the junk out of my closet and the boy's room. i'm throwing things away like crazy. what's the point of keeping all of this? it's crowding me out of my own house.

i don't like to go out shopping alone anymore. 

i am not working. not because i don't want to, but because i haven't sold the next book yet--or rather, my agent hasn't. also, i haven't found anything i want to do yet. i've got an idea. lots of them, but a particularly exciting one about a job that may or may not exist.

i'll keep you posted.

Comments

[slouchingmom]

I'm so sorry. What a lesson, a lesson no one needs to learn.