I do not want to be writing this today. The other day I had asked my manager if I could have off today and work tomorrow, he wanted me to come in just in case the other person who had been scheduled to open didn't arrive. I called off the condo deal. They want me to buy it as is, no matter what an inspection might reveal, and I would have to waive my right to go back on the purchase even if something horrible was discovered. The idea that something I wanted so badly was so close had me considering this, but fortunately rational thought prevailed. This is all the money that I have. Work was slow, one of the reps from another company came in and we chatted. He said something personal that I didn't expect, customers came in, and then he told me that he had to go, maybe he did, but I wonder.

I am so tired today. I am sad, I am lonely, I'm impatient, frustrated, angry, and a whole host of other things. I drove back home without really seeing the sun. It's hard to believe that just yesterday there was a thick coating of snow on my car and the countryside; a white layer of buttercream precipitation on the cake of Wisconsin soil. I pulled out my Women Who Love Too Much book and started crying as I read that. A friend of mine said something that reminded me of convenience store comfort so I went back to read that. I had forgotten I had ever written it, and yes, I think it is fair to say that I have come so far as to be light years ahead of where I had been. The woman there is now a much closer friend, we touch base periodically, but she is a night owl and I am the lark so our conversations are long paragraphs of us pouring out our hearts and souls to each other knowing that the other will respond in due time and when energy levels permit.

Today I was thinking about the things that make me happy, bring me joy, things I have never done, and I had a sudden realization that a new life for me was possible. I think that I have been shopping for the wrong thing. What I want is a structure that will make me feel better, the only problem with that, is four walls and windows can't do that for me. The only way out is through so as I sit here deflated, upset, crying about the things that have gone before me, the things going on now, the things that will feel oppressive tomorrow, I can feel a sense of pride in myself for putting these thoughts out here. I have been writing for a long time, several weeks ago a girlfriend of mine came over and I tossed inches of pages covered in my handwriting. It's as if I'm on a mission to erase the past, as if once the evidence of it is gone, I will feel better. But that is only somewhat true. Today I left work early, came home, made a beef roast, and ate half a pan of brownies with my youngest while her sister was at work.

Life is good. 

J

P.S. I'm putting together a plan and I'm excited about it. Nervous, but optimistic. Stay tuned.

Xoxo,

j