All By Myself

I have figured out that the moments I like best are the ones where I am alone; where it is just me. I can sit and think. Think think think about anything and everything. There are no phones to answer, no children to tend to. I got an hour and a half of Me Time just this evening.

I can think about work. I think about my drawers of cases, not just cases, but people with different lives and circumstances and problems that I enjoy helping. I love my job. I just got a raise!

I can think about my personal life, my emotional well-being. My wardrobe. I think about how I'm going to begin an MS treatment called Avonex. I will have to give myself a fricking shot every week. Yuck. But my eyesight is getting worse and my days of ignoring it are gone. Can you believe it, there were actually days and days where I didn't think about my MS at all? And then something would remind me and I'd almost startle, to have put it from my mind for such a time! Perhaps that helped me process the disease to myself...I was sad, I was angry. I was irritated and then chose a forgetful denial. I remain sad. Irritated. But I can't just pretend it doesn't exist any longer. Dammit.

I think about how I have given up fast food and sometimes all I want is a Jack In the Box breakfast sammich. MMMM. But I won't give in, nope.

The feeling of rejuvenation, the relaxation after I get said time to myself is the perfect beginning to another week. Ugh, which is tomorrow.

Don't Ask Me Why I'm Sitting In My Car In The Dark

The radio just played commercials for a tattoo shop and then a marijuana shop. I think that's awesome. Just the freedom of speech and progressiveness of our generation and blah blah blah.

Just To Think

It's been eight months since I left Husband. He's sweet and charming still, mostly. Sometimes there are blinding moments of clarity when I'm near him, the flashes of "Oh THANK GOODNESS I left him because he's an asshole". I call these moments my Weekly Dose of Reality. He lives in his place across town, I live in mine. We co-parent effectively. We try to be "friends". We still have sex.

I know, I know. What the fuck am I doing, you ask? Eh...I've never been a conventional girl. I also think that the rules don't apply to me. We absolutely cannot live together, we realize that. But there's nobody else we'd rather be with than each other.

A case of the grass is still green over here and there aren't any other pastures? Perhaps. But as much as I'd like to call it 'just fucking', he and I both know that it's not. We kiss and make love/have mindblowing sex and cuddle, and then I leave for my own house.

It's working for us. It's working better now then it has for the last five years. I get my own space, don't have to pay his bills or listen to his bullshit, and get all the orgasms I want. Imagine that.