A Packers fan timeout
You know, I’ve always said (today even) that I’d rather win to a worthy adversary. Also, I’d rather lose that way. Well, OK, not ME, but my team. (I don’t personally compete in anything lol.)
But this game. At time of typing we have 14 minutes in the fourth remaining – and since the biggest comeback in history is still standing, I’m making the assumption we may catch up a little, but not win.
The Falcons kicked ass today!
They did.
And my team fell short – a lot.
Here’s my opinion and I would like to think with ‘sportsmanship conduct’.
Tell you what though Falcon fans, you’d better take it ALL the way now!
You deserved to win today, but our chance at the bowl is done. Beat whoever you’ll compete!
Musings from the laundromat: Shorts, Stores & Sunday Playoffs edition.
There’s much I should or could be talking about today – but having pulled up to the laundromat to see Glaucoma Man in shorts erased any social or political commentary from my mind.
It’s in the 40’s for crying out loud!
He’s in his 80’s.
Me: Why are you in shorts?!
Him: Keeps me movin’!
Me: Well, at least your shirt is Packer colored.
Not long after that he started bouncing on his feet as we all stood outside waiting for the laundromat to open.
Him: It’s too cold for this!
Me: Shoulda worn pants.
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Laundry Lady isn’t here today (thus the late opening), she traded her shift at the last minute with the manager.
It’s odd, not only being here without my usual banter with her, but today for the first time in over six years I only have MY laundry with me.
Only had to use one machine.
See, I am beginning to notice the benefits of the empty nest.
I’m still struggling with missing him of course.
And, it’s hard to shop without him due to my anxiety. But, it sure helps me get in and out of the stores quickly. OK, so, usually without 1/2 the items I came in needing, but I’m working on that.
Getting braver. I just avoid eye contact and try not to stray too far away from the customer restroom.
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Other than that – it IS Packer day!
I’ll be comfy And surrounded by snacks ready for a repeat of last weeks game hopefully! I love it when it’s close and some amazing plays are made. By BOTH teams, not just mine.
Not much fun winning if it’s a total blow out. Better to come out triumphant having played a worthy adversary in my opinion.
Of course, I’ll be ‘playing’ from the couch not the field. But, even that roller coaster ride can be exhausting. I think I do my part. Swearing, gasping, cheering. Hey, I’m a team player, what can I say?
You’re welcome Green Bay, you’re welcome.
An honest conversation.
You would think today I would have an opinion of a certain party and an inauguration.
I do, of course, but, it’s not foremost in my mind.
My mind is endlessly thinking of a woman I love.
The woman I connected with and understand.
The woman fighting stage 4 cancer.
Thing is … As much as I don’t edit myself with people, I don’t with her either.
When she was well, she never co-signed my bullshit. And I SO appreciated that!
Got to talk to her tonight.
I think she finds it refreshing. No platitudes. Just “So, what the heck? What do they say?” No “I’m praying for you.”
But I am.
To the God I don’t believe in.
I do like to keep it real and then SHE gets to keep it real with ME!
I get the full Monty, no editing.
And I get to ask again the questions other people avoid.
I love her too much not to know.
I love her too much not to be myself, and walk on eggshells. ‘Healthy her’ would HATE that!
Don’t get me wrong, I have bawled my eyeballs right out … Put them back in and ‘Amanda’d’ up!
Because, while I can be honest, and handle her honesty, I still have a very sick friend and it tears me up inside.
Next time I’m in line at the bank and people are bitching, I’ll say, not my usual, but “You realize, I have a friend that can’t even STAND UP and would give ANYTHING to be waiting in this fucking line!”
Don’t doubt it.
I’ll do it!
Musings from the Laundromat: Teeth, TMI & Comforter Forgiveness
I think I must finally be forgiven for my comforter faux pas years ago.
(You can read about THAT here.)
Laundry Lady just came over to my little table carrying one and asked me, “Is this wet do you think, or just cold?”
Ha! Now I’m an official comforter advisor.
She has new teeth. I noticed last week. It’s so nice to see her smile.
As for glaucoma man, I was given quite an extensive account of what he called his ‘roto-router’ procedure at the hospital.
Apparently the nurses didn’t know what they were doing when removing his catheter and he’s still peeing blood.
I needed to know that at 8:15 in the morning. I really did.
He’s an odd duck. But, I would miss him if he wasn’t here.
It’s strange only lugging one laundry basket here.
I’m finding, in between missing my son, that there ARE some benefits to living alone.
Like, coming home and there not being dishes in the sink. Like, walking from the bathroom to my bedroom sans clothes.
I would say it’s cheaper shopping too, but considering I keep sending my bird money for food – that’s not quite true yet.
**Breaking News**
A man just came up to me and said, “You know, I don’t think there’s been a Sunday that I’ve been here that you haven’t.”
I have never seen this man, or his wife before in my life! Am I that oblivious when I’m laundering? Apparently so.
Well, laundry is dry (as was the comforter in my professional opinion) and it’s time to head home to my sleepy dog and bid Laundry Lady farewell.
And then he was gone …
Me: you’re leaving? But wait …
*takes picture*
Me: I love you so much
Nic: May Neptune watch over your soul
Me: what?
Nic: May Neptune watch over your soul
Me: (internally) Wtf?
Me: (out loud) ok (followed by massive sobs and ugly crying noises)
Nic: bye for now
It all happened too quickly. Can I get a do over? Please.
(My status on Friday, the 6th of January.)
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I knew it was going to hurt. I had no clue how much.
Considering the state of me the day before, work told me to please take the day if needed. I knew as I arrived home Thursday that it would be needed.
To pull closer to your home, only to see your child’s car surrounded by cases and ‘I’m going away’ items well, let’s just say I was sobbing by the time I had put the car into neutral and pulled my emergency brake.
This was it.
The last night.
I walked, wet cheeked, into a home I had shared with him since High School.
Suitcases and vacuum sealed bags lay about the living room and kitchen. His bedroom littered with debris from a lifetime together.
This was really happening.
I stood, purse in hand – unable to stop the tears.
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The following morning was a blur.
After watching him drive off – I entered the house (no longer feeling like a home) and broke.
Into a thousand pieces.
I cried myself to sleep.
I woke.
I cried some more.
I finally found the strength to enter ‘his room’.
And wished I hadn’t.
I grabbed a pillow abandoned on his unmade bed. Inhaled deeply and returned to bed with it. I clutched it so tightly.
And slept again.
In between the crying and the sleeping was the worrying – he was after all, embarking on a 27 hour trip across country.
Physically navigating terrain he’d never navigated before.
Just as I was emotionally.
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It’s been 5 days since he left.
My dog, Butters has been out of sorts.
I’ve been trying to be ‘chipper’ at work. Albeit, quite unsuccessfully on Monday. I had made it through the entire day – catching up, slammed.
I was crunching year-end numbers just as I was informed the copy machine was acting up.
“I can only focus on one thing … I’ll call the copy people in a minute.”
A boss responded, “No, finish what you’re doing, don’t worry.”
And, out of my mouth?
“But if I don’t call now, Nic won’t come!!”
Our copy guy’s name is Christian.
Freudian slip led to tears.
They continued to fall as I stayed a little late and got everything done while everyone trod about me on eggshells.
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Another jarring moment was yesterday. Nic had told me he would send photographs of where he was (having, obviously, safely arrived at his destination.)
I followed up and his response was:
“I haven’t been home yet. Lol I’ve. Been out all day”
Ouch.
Wasn’t ready for that sentence.
Home.
His home.
Not ‘our’ home.
And I’m going to have to get used to that.
I’m told repeatedly by people with the best intentions that his flight from the nest is a testament to my successful raising of him.
But I’m still trying to accept that. And, it’s hard. And it hurts.
However, I’m also very proud of him for taking such a ginormous step and embarking on a new chapter of his life.
For following his heart (literally, he left to be with his girlfriend of over three years.)
For bravely starting from scratch in a place he’s only visited a couple of times, and accepting the challenge to ‘adult’.
I’ll always be here for him.
I’ll always miss him.
And perhaps most importantly, always love him enough to let go.
Debauchery Soup 