Saturday, February 21, 2009

Flush with disappointment

My mood is decidedly negative this week. Maybe I am just showing my true colors. I hope you didn't really think I was really that nice. Who am I kidding. You didn't.

Today was disappointing. It wasn't a total loss and I'm not upset about it, but it didn't really live up to expectations. Overall, I am still a fan of this program. I'm just not a fan of the Sacramento post-sessions. We are seriously considering driving back to Santa Cruz just to see our old peeps. I know I am a snob about stuff, but I don't WANT to sit in a plastic chair for six hours and listen to someone read every page out of a workbook. Can I get an AMEN? Particularly if said person is hard of hearing and keeps asking people to repeat what they say. Or let's say this person is approximately 900 years old. That makes me want to pull out all my eyelashes, one by one, in complete anguish. I know, gross.

The other problem today was that it represented one of my worst nightmares: running into people from work in embarrassing and/or potentially awkward situations. So seeing an ex-coworker from my school at this thing just gave me a feeling of dread. This person didn't do anything to make it awkward, but it just gives me the ooks. Then I get all weird about how maybe I am making it weird for them to see me there...

I don't like people to see me outside of my normal habitat. And why, dear anonymous blog readership, does it only happen in the most personal of situations? It's like the time I wasted a sick day and then ran into the school secretary in my Ob/Gyn waiting room (so, what are you in for?), or the time finally worked up the courage to go see a psychiatrist at Kaiser for my anxiety, and the receptionist was a parent of one of my students (Mrs. P? I didn't know you were nuts?), or the time I was buying a pregnancy test at Albertsons and one of my students bagged it for me, adding "Hey, Mrs. P, hope it turns out alright!" ('nuff said.) I don't like running into people. Note to self: living in the same community where you teach? Bad idea.

But I digress. It was just a perfect storm of old people, a bad presentation, and mad awkwardness. Today sucked. But the program has a lot to offer. We're still doing our daily assignments, and what we got today was about moving forward--not just talking about feelings, which we've been primarily doing, but working toward decision making, compromise, planning, action, etc with the same structure and guidance. It's all good. I think we're just at the point in the journey where it's really up to us anyway to decide if we want to take the reins. We do. I do, he does. So that's all good, encouraging stuff. My squirmyness aside, we're doing better than we ever were. And I still think of this program as a gift.

I said this before, but the single greatest message we got out of this whole shebang so far is that love is a choice. And to hear that all the time now, that E loves me--that he's choosing to love me--is a really powerful thing. Feelings are so fleeting. To hear that someone chooses you implies a conscious decision on their part, a willingness to hang on even when, let's say, you're being a raving lunatic and completely unreasonable, or perhaps if you are a total slob with a rebellious streak when it comes to household chores, or maybe you just expect too much and wear your heart on your sleeve. And they choose you anyway--with your frizzy hair and your zits and your old sweatpants and that shirt you've had since you were 13 and all your bad habits.

There's a lot of security there. BECAUSE PEOPLE ARE NOT AWESOME 100% OF THE TIME. (I'm not. You're not either, get serious.) I never trusted that he loved me before, and in reality he wasn't comfortable saying it. Now it's much easier to accept it. Of course those words aren't the be all and end all, but when they're backed up with all the hard work we're doing it makes for a much more hopeful outlook. Particularly since I had completely written off the idea of an 'us' anymore.

{Oh man. Just when I started to get serious and all bloggy, there was a call from down the hall. Actually a scream. Toilet overflow, man down. He's okay, but his favorite monkey PJs didn't make it through unscathed. Soaking wet. He's so cute--tried to unclog the john using the scrub brush. I realize that this is only cute to a mother, because it made the whole thing worse and basically added disintegrated TP, et al to the waterfall. Oh, I love having kids. Reminds you that you are not cool, no matter how hard you try to act like it. Ad's reading on the couch now and he's got a new set of feetie PJs.}

I have given up on the idea that I can control any of this post or any of this life. You just don't know what's going to happen. Today, c'est bien, and I am riding this wave wherever it takes me, much like Hank's TP over the side of the potty. I'm excited to see what happens next. I'd like to go back and meet my 20 year old self, just so I could shock the H-E-double-hockey-sticks out of her. I like her, but I like almost-30 me too.

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