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Slow Day Blues 1:02 p.m. 2005-02-11 It’s a rainy Friday, and there is little to do at the office today. I’d rather have a busy day than a slow day at work. The day is just dragging, and I took only a half hour lunch so I can leave earlier. No picking up Andrew today because it’s a holiday (Lincoln), but of course he has already called me twice. No matter—it’s almost as many times my phone as actually rung today. Oh well, at least my supervisor has her blinds down, and I don’t have to be too paranoid about not actually doing work related things right now. But still, I hate just being here doing absolutely nothing. I can only think of better ways to use up my time. Lying on the couch having an interrupted nap for example! My ex has been corresponding to me through Im’s more often than ordinary or necessary. It is just so frustrating to know/understand I put up with someone like that for as long as I once had. He is just too hard for me to comprehend—I just don’t get what goes on in that head of his. He wants to take our kids on a wild tour of Portugal this summer, but the idea of putting the two kids on a plane really makes me nervous. I’m not ready for it, and I’m afraid whether or not the kids can handle it emotionally. He has really screwed up with their feelings/minds, and it just annoys me how he just doesn’t “get it”. I may go to the Azores this year just so the kids fly there and back with ME. I miss it, and it would be nice to go back, but if it’s going to be a span of time of just worrying—I don’t think it’s going to be much of a vacation; especially if husband can’t take time to go. It’ll be me, mother, and baby, and my two other kids—somewhere out there… Lovely. Oh well, at least I won’t have to visit the ex-inlaws. I honesty don’t dislike any of my inlaws at all; they have been very kind to me before and after the divorce, but I’ve had a few experiences during the summer during my “married to hubby #1” to make anyone understand why I don’t miss visiting the family home. I remember listening to the little scratches of mice claws run up and down the floor at my mother inlaws house. I would hear them late at night as they raced back and forth from under the bed to the living room. My brother-inlaw’s wife (they were living at my inlaws at the time) spoke of them (the mice) quite lovingly. She went on to explain how they would sometimes watch her as she sewed on her sewing machine. Lovely, I thought. My sister-inlaw is Cinderella. I wondered if she made clothes for them too. After she said that I was convinced that I had nothing in common with this woman. I’m more of the stand on a chair and scream, “There’s a mouse!” kind of gal. I remember one night in particular. It was a summer evening, and my then hubby decided to spend the entire evening out with his brother and his friends. His brother came home, but he didn’t come back until morning. I can still remember the scent of my mother-inlaw’s garden and the sound of the passing motorcycles and cars that would randomly pass by on the street, as I sat there outside waiting for him to come home. The moths kept on bouncing off the night light outside, and the grass would rustle each time the field mice ran back and forth near my feet. Aw..the memories… Now you can understand why I wish I could forget some of them. Coelha@aol.com |