I’m somewhere on a beach, the sun is warm on my skin and there’s an ocean breeze in the air and I’m at a place of peace I want to never leave. Rudely, mercilessly I awaken with a start to the sounds of my other half getting ready for that daily grind we are so intimately familiar with.
It’s started again. The best parts of my day are inside these walls. The walls of this house that we built, picked ourselves and watched spring from dirt to now. With the people that I love and that love me. But oh do I long for that beach, I can hear the sun call my name and the waves crashing, reminding me of the peace within them.
I sit up and look around, everything is blurry and squinting doesn’t work so I turn around and blindly stab around the headboard looking for my glasses. Making a silent vow to get lasik asap. I am frustrated with these defective eyes. Well, there are certainly more defects to this MouthyGirl, but at that moment, just that one was the complaint. That changed quickly. A huge credit to the DH for being such a pleasant person in the morning. I am so crabby and cranky in the morning that a few years ago he actually sat me down and had a talk with me about my morning demeanor. I laugh now, but it’s hard to be nice when the day is looming ahead, and it’s not yours to claim.
He’s great in the morning..he’s so consistently mellow that sometimes it pisses me off. Like this morning when I realized we still had today plus 4 MORE to get through this week. But all of these are passing thoughts in my morning routine of feeding the cats and getting them ice water in their bowls (yes ice water). I turn on the boob tube and check the news for the weather, as soon as I hear the weather I change it…too much news is….well too much.
Nick at Nite typically has good morning programming, I’m questioning the decision of the decision makers to put Roseanne on in the morning, as she’s quite annoying, but whatever. Once he goes to work I put it on VH1 and flip between that and CMT. I love how Dish groups the like channels for those of us that don’t like browsing the guide as a hobby.
He leaves for work and I finish getting ready for work..and so it begins. I remind the MouthyBoy to call me when he leaves and then when the bus comes, the bus coming being the only time he can call me, say one word and hang up promptly. Trust me, he does only what he’s required to do.
Out the garage and onto the street, on my way to the 8-5, to work on someone else’s baby. “Baby” being a figurative term for the practice I work in, of course it’s my boss’s baby, not mine. One day it will be handed down to his sons, and even then it will be someone else’s baby.
If all goes according to my Master Plan, or my “MP” as I call it, there will be a MouthyGirl magazine and makeup line and clothing line in a few years (please voice your thoughts on this in the comments) and that will be MY baby that I will LOVE to work on, and look forward to “working” everyday.
But sometimes doesn’t life seem like it’s in slow motion? Like you can’t speed up the day and the hours are determined to tick by slowly, every second taking a minute, every minute taking an hour and every day seeming like a week? I find myself looking for the DVR button of life so that I may “skip ahead” and bypass the commercials, getting to the meat of the show that is my life.
I find myself feeling like Simba, in a holding pattern that won’t let go:
One day I tell myself, as I daydream on the hour long trip to work, I focus on the road and crank up the stereo in an attempt to prolong the inevitable….my arrival to work and subsequently leaving my world and daydreams behind.
Now that I’m here, I’ll say goodbye to my dreams and hopes until 5:00 p.m. where they will be waiting as I walk out the door to seize me and capture my imagination again.