Rather than what I’ve lost

One of the perks of having a roommate who works in the university registrar’s office is getting to find out what you got for grades the moment they’re handed in.  The deadline was last night at midnight, and Sam was able to check my grades today.

A and A.

4.0 a second time in a row.

As soon as I saw it on the computer screen, I became the total loser who was crying at work.

I kind of knew I had it in the bag.  I mean, Dr. S gave me perfect scores on every paper that he gave back to me.  Granted, the three that I didn’t get back (because it was the end of the semester) were all the biggest, most important papers…but I had a feeling I wouldn’t completely bomb them, which is what I would have had to do to not get the A.

But it never gets old, it really doesn’t.  I can’t wait until I actually see the grade on the website, see what my new cumulative GPA is, and can actually go public about it.

 

 

Timing is everything.  And timing might be very fitting, really.  Sometimes, having a good memory can be difficult.  I had a historian’s brain long before I set out to be a historian.  Dates, to me, are very important.  “It’s just another day” doesn’t register.  No, it isn’t just another day.  It is the only day of its kind, it will never pass this way again.  I remembered, Friday night, that Saturday, May 18th, 2013, would have been my five year dating anniversary with David.

On my way to the bar Friday night, for Samantha’s graduation party, I drove alone, and I listened to music, and I thought.  Usually when I’m in the car and listening to music, I think about loss.  I think about the things that aren’t, the things that should have been, and what can never be now.  I don’t usually drive, and think “Yeah, I’m good.”  Except last night, I did.

Part of it was due to a well-timed text from my close friend Kim, telling me how “fucking proud” she was of me for getting that 4.0.  Part of it was because I was thinking about how I had rocked my C25K run the day before.  These are things I didn’t do before.  This is not the person I was going to be, when I was married to David.

Don’t get me wrong.  The years I spent with David, from May 2008 to September 2011, were the best of my life, hands down, at least thus far.  They filled me up in a way nothing had before.  I was deliriously happy with him.  Because he made me happy.  Not because I made myself happy.  And then September happened, and the year and a half of indecision…and then the decision came, and I had to make myself happy.

I found myself.  I found things that made me happy, instead of him making me happy.  I went back to school.  I might have gone back anyway, if I’d been with David, but probably not, because he was never that concerned about it.  If I had told him I wanted to go back, he would have backed me to the hilt, but I don’t think he would have pressured me to do so, and I probably would not have.  Running?  Hell no.  I was good enough the way I was, right?  Overweight, out of shape, I was fine, right?

But look at me now.  Look what I’ve done.  I don’t say this to brag, I’m not trying to be immodest.  But for so long I have been thinking about everything I lost, everything I wouldn’t have.  A husband, security, a family, a house.  And that’s not true.  It will happen.  Just not right now.  Someday, with the right person.  But not right now, because the time isn’t right.

It doesn’t even matter.  Look at me now.  Look at all the things I had convinced myself I couldn’t do, that I am doing now.

Five years ago, I was happy with C’s.  I was just trying to keep my head afloat at school.  Straight A’s?  4.0?  HA.  But I did it.  Not once, but twice.  Two semesters in a row.  I could never even conceive of that when I was 24 years old.  Not even on the radar.  But I did it!  Twice!  And at a time in my life when everything was caving in, everything felt like it was falling apart.  As Jess said earlier, “It was a crap situation but you adjusted and totally BAMFed it.”

Running.  I was never a runner.  And now I go to the gym three times a week and I run my little heart out.  Even though Dr. L told my parents, back in 2005, that I should never do any high impact sports anymore, even though he said my body was prematurely aging because of the trauma of the accident.  I listened way too long, to those voices of doubt, that told me that I was too beat up and broken to do physical activity.  I’m done with that.  I’m going to finish training, I’m going to get to the point where I can run 5Ks, and I’m going to go further.  I’m going to listen to the words my father said to me, when he heard the doctor’s words: “Don’t let anyone limit you.”  

Because there are no limits.

I have looked, way too long, at what I have lost.  It’s really easy to do, in the dark of the night, going to bed by myself, or driving down a long stretch of highway when a familiar song comes on the radio.

But what I have lost is equal to, if not less than, what I have gained.  What I have.  What I am going to be.

And I drove, and I cried, and I thought about everything I have done, everything I have accomplished, since I left David in November of last year.  Look at what I have done.  Look at what else I’m going to do.  I don’t know if anyone understands how much these things mean to me — getting straight A’s, running a 5K, climbing Mt. Washington a third time, graduating with my Master’s.  I look at pictures on FB of my friends who were graduating this weekend, and I thought to myself, that’s going to be me within the year.

It is. I believe it.

Look what I’ve done.  Look what I’ve gained.  Look how beautiful this all is.

Little Victories, Week Twenty

For 2013, I’m going to have a Friday post every single week, for positive victories in my life.  They may not be big things, but they will be things that I am proud of, things I did in the past seven days.  I’m hoping this will keep me focused on the positive, all the good things that are going on in my life.

- Finished moving everything out of my apartment.

- Revised and handed in my thesis prospectus.  It got an A   I’m meeting with Dr. LW on Monday to discuss the revisions necessary for the Graduate Studies Office, and working on my thesis for the summer months.

- Pushed through and finally, on the third try, completed C25K Week 4, Day 1.  It was an uphill battle but I did it.

- Completed Week 4, Day 2 today and felt fantastic.

Plans for the rest of the weekend involve: um…knitting and watching Kitchen Nightmares.  I think this is the plan

You have to set yourself on fire

The last few weeks have been a roller-coaster, and of course, the ride isn’t over yet.  I am putting the finishing touches to the edits on my prospectus…and it’s a nightmare.  The fear of not being good enough is all-consuming.  Worse, there’s a depression that’s hung over me since the move.  It’s not the apartment (I love it), it’s not my roommate (she’s wonderful).  It’s just that I put way too much pressure on the move, too much emphasis on thinking that once I moved, I wouldn’t hurt anymore.  Surprise!  Not the case.  If anything, I think I may have felt worse, because the move, with the due date for three major papers just behind it, combined with the choice timing of some douchebaggery from David, spiraled me into a very bad place over the weekend, and I’m still struggling to crawl out of that, and get back to where I was before.

Depression, stress, anxiety, and way too many tears, combined with work pressures (I’ve had to go into work on a weekend two weeks in a row) and some overwhelmingly bad nightmares, and the result most days is…this:

Sometimes, I just want to give up.  My life took an abrupt turn for the worst on September 26, 2011.  It has been twenty months since then.  And twenty months is a fucking LONG-ASS time to be sad a majority of the time.  Sometimes I get so damn frustrated with myself.  Why are you not over this yet?  Why is this divorce still bothering you?  Why can’t you move the fuck on and stop living in the past?  Why do these things still make you sad?

It has the combined effect of making me irrationally angry.  At myself.

But you know, I looked back in my blog a few months, to the entry dated January 29th, 2013, entitled “Death of All Dreams.“  And I read back to those words that I wrote, pre-filing, pre-moving, pre-…everything I’ve done since January:

There before me, on a funeral pyre, are all the dreams I had for myself, all the unfulfilled promise that we had when we met, aged 23 and 24, so ridiculously in love, ready to embark on this great journey of life.  We were going to be different.  I know that nobody goes into a marriage planning on divorcing.  From day one, we said that divorce was not an option.  And then…it was.

They lie there, on this mythological pyre, so many memories and dreams and plans.  I turn them over in my hands before putting them back down…

And although he has stripped the memories, the dreams, the hopes, even the love, bare, and laid them on the pyre, I haven’t been able to set the pile alight.  Because you see, he won’t.  He won’t do it.  Only I can do it.  Because he never will.

He left them there and walked away, he thinks I can never bring myself to end what I never wanted to end.  To light all of those dreams on fire, watch them melt and run together and evaporate into thin air.

He doesn’t realize that once they are burned, once they are gone forever, once I give them up…I can start dreaming again.  I can hope again.

I just have to find a way to strike the match.

Lord, help me find a way to strike the match.

 

And sometimes it seems like I haven’t come so far.  But when I look back on there…I did find my way.  I filed.  I moved.  I struck the match and burned it to the ground.  The only way that I could move on was by burning the past, and I did it.  I did it.  I burned it.  It’s still burning.  There’s no sense staring back and trying to reach in to salvage the pieces as they catch and burn.  I’ll only hurt myself.  Even if I pull them from the wreckage…they’re still charred, they’re still gone.  No sense in looking back.  Burn it.  Burn it all.

And then, when it’s over…it’s over.  And you can begin again.

When there’s nothing left to burn…you have to set yourself on fire.

Little Victories, Week Nineteen

For 2013, I’m going to have a Friday post every single week, for positive victories in my life.  They may not be big things, but they will be things that I am proud of, things I did in the past seven days.  I’m hoping this will keep me focused on the positive, all the good things that are going on in my life.

(It is blowing my mind that we are almost to the mid-point of the year)

- MOVED.  That seems like a massive victory, not a little one, but damn I am proud of it.  I now have my new place, in a bigger, brighter apartment, closer to graduate school and my friends.  And I couldn’t be happier with it (well, that’s a little bit of a lie.  I would be if we had a washer and dryer that were completely plugged in — landlord is coming this weekend to check and make sure there are no leaks — and doorknobs that weren’t loose).  But still.  Power is on, cable is on, move is all but finished!  Pictures hopefully after this weekend.  We’re almost done unpacking!

- Finished my last two papers for Dr. S and submitted them.  This means that I…

- More than likely finished my last class for my Master’s work!  As long as I get an A- or higher in Dr. S’s class, I should be golden for being finished with my graduate studies classes.  All I should have left is thesis in the fall…but I won’t find out for an undetermined amount of time whether or not my prospectus has been accepted.  (Which reminds me…must finish prospectus edits this weekend…)

- Successfully convinced my friend Drea to buy a ticket to June Wildfire!

- After a week of inactivity (well, of gym absences, since, as my mom puts it, I was working my ass off carrying furniture and boxes up and down flights of stairs), I went to the gym on Thursday and completed Week 3 of C25K.  I think I am ready for Week 4, Day 1, but we’ll see tomorrow.  If it’s too difficult, I’ll redo Week 3, Day 3.  Slow and steady.  I am determined to do this!

On tap for the weekend: finishing my final paper for the semester, gym, meeting up with Drea for knitting and a little introduction to spinning (if the weather cooperates, which I doubt it will).  Then Mothers’ Day on Sunday — church, lunch with Mom, and then volunteering for work in the evening).

I think next week I might just take the whole week off to relax.  This has been a crazy busy month, and it isn’t even half over yet!

So many updates…

Well…I moved!

It was just about as exhausting an experience as one can imagine, and I’m still sort of trying to catch up.  I lost three days last week (Friday, Saturday, and Sunday) to moving, and I’m still not done getting everything out of my parents’ in-law apartment and over to my new place.  I have (mostly) unpacked, though there are still two garbage bags full of clothing on my floor (that I need to sort through) and the kitchen is still a (mostly) unpacked wreck.  We need a kitchen table (we have chairs, just no table!) and a couple of bookshelves.  We’re getting these from Ikea sometime soon:

We also need a living room rug (probably going to get one soon too).  But the place is really coming together.  The kitties LOVE it.  And Samantha seems to love the kitties, which is good.  I overheard her and Tempest “talking” to each other today, and it was so damn adorable.

I finished both of my final papers for Dr. S yesterday and sent them in, so TECHNICALLY I am finished with classes for my Master’s degree (so long as I get an A- or above in that class).  I should only have my revisions for Dr. LW (due next Tuesday) and then I’m done done DONE for the Spring ’13 semester.  Holy crap, this went by fast.  Sometime over the summer, I’ll find out if my prospectus was accepted or rejected, and if I’m graduating in December like I hope, or in May (wouldn’t be the end of the world, but I don’t want to be in school for another year).

I also (with the help of Matt and David) convinced my friend Drea to buy a ticket to Wildfire in a few weeks!  I’m so freakin’ excited that it’s Wildfire season again.  Time for firespinning!  I don’t know how we live through the winter months, I really don’t.  I haven’t burned since August and I miss it.  Introducing a new friend to the spinning arts is seriously exciting.  I think we’re going to have the best Wildfire yet!

 

It’s all coming together.  It’s taken me a long time to get to this point, but things are finally coming together.

Stressed?! Who is stressed?!

One class left.  One week left until my last papers for said class need to be handed in.  Two weeks until my thesis prospectus is due into the Graduate Studies office.

Five days until I move out of my parents’ in-law apartment and into my brand-new life.

My caffeine addiction has reached new heights.  My bank account has reached new lows (not really, I have money in savings that I’m attempting to NOT tap into, but considering how fucking EXPENSIVE moving is, that’s starting to look less and less like a possibility right now).

I shouldn’t complain too much.  Because I have amazing friends who are willing to help me move, I don’t need a moving truck, so that negates a big bill right there.  And I don’t begrudge them the takeout and beer that I will be paying for on Saturday night.  Much of this week is going to consist of taking drives over to the apartment and bringing my things over little by little.  Friday night, D and I are bringing over the furniture that’s been in his apartment ever since I moved out in November.  And Saturday is the big move itself.  Sunday Samantha moves in, but at that point (hopefully) all of my things, my cats, and I will be settled in, and the internet will be set up (I know, right, priorities!).

I’m meeting with my thesis adviser this afternoon to discuss my prospectus.  Which, of course, being me, I have already envisioned as a negative, with her telling me that my prospectus is garbage and I should just quit the program now.  My mind is such a wonderful place to live at times.

Went to IKEA on Sunday with Samantha, and got some stuff for the apartment.  I needed a new bedding set (well, I guess that’s more ‘want’ than ‘need’, but whatever), and this is the one I got for $30:

And I got these (not from IKEA) for my bedroom:

Love.  I want the apartment to be filled with candles.  I think it will be.  I have enough Partylite stuff to last a year, haha.

There are still a few things I need to get for the new place — a set of sheets, a shower curtain rod (the former tenants took the last one — I KNOW) — but we’re almost there.  By this time next week, I’ll be in the new place, the papers will hopefully be done (they’re due Tuesday, May 7th) and I’ll be on my way to going full-tilt into summer.

I can’t wait.

Little Victories, Week Seventeen

For 2013, I’m going to have a Friday post every single week, for positive victories in my life.  They may not be big things, but they will be things that I am proud of, things I did in the past seven days.  I’m hoping this will keep me focused on the positive, all the good things that are going on in my life.

- Finished the rough draft of my Master’s thesis prospectus!  Twenty-two pages, and granted, it’s a rough draft, but it’s DONE.  And done earlier than my professor expected it to be.  Dr. LW was a little surprised, but seemed pleased, when I put it on her desk.  I should get the suggestions for revision sometime within the next few days.  Fingers crossed!

- Finished my term paper for Dr. S’s class.  Clocking in at a grand total of 28 pages (counting the title page and bibliography, so really only 26 pages of writing), it definitely was the major hump of the semester.  But it’s finished now, and there are only two papers (and the revisions for my prospectus) left!  So it looks like the semester is all downhill from here.  Let’s hope!

- Began Couch to 5K last week.
Friday, April 19 – Week 1, Day 1
Saturday, April 20 – Week 1, Day 2
Monday, April 22 – Week 1, Day 3
Wednesday, April 24 – Week 2, Day 1

And I feel really good about it!  I had to get some new sneakers because my old ones (purchased in 2009) were shot to hell.  I was going to just grab a cheap pair at Bob’s Stores, but when I went there, I wasn’t totally satisfied with the comfort of the less expensive shoes.  Then I slipped on a pair of the $49 Asics…and you know that moment that women claim to have when they buy their perfect wedding dress?  I had that moment with those shoes.  They were just right.  I didn’t mind paying the extra.  They were pretty much exactly what I was looking for.  I wore them all afternoon and evening last night, so hopefully when I hit the gym this afternoon for Week 2, Day 2, they’ll be somewhat broken in.  (I also bought a sports bra.  It was completely necessary.  My 38 DDD girls were not comfortable running in underwire)

- Had my last counseling session with D and DS.  I have to say it was bittersweet.  I will miss DS, but I don’t think I’ll miss the sessions, the rawness, the pain.  We are two months and two weeks away from our divorce date, and I think we’re good from here on out.

- Started getting my preliminary plans in place for the move, which will hopefully take place next weekend, May 4-5!  I can’t wait!

I’m finding it hard to believe that I’m one week away from moving, two weeks away from the end of the semester, and five weeks away from Wildfire!  I just…I can’t wrap my brain around it.  Seriously excited on a lot of fronts.  There are so many good things coming up right now, it’s difficult not to get caught up in the excitement.

Have a wonderful weekend!  My plans, you ask?  Gym this afternoon, then Knit Night at Drea’s.  Tomorrow…calling my grandparents in Florida, cleaning my apartment, tackling those two papers!  Sunday, Ikea with Samantha, and then up to Massachusetts for Tina’s Partylite/Cinco de Mayo party.  I can’t wait.  This weekend’s going to be a blast.

I said last night on Facebook, something that I haven’t felt was true up until now.

I’m nowhere near where I thought I wanted to be. But for the first time in a very, very long time, I feel like I’m on the right path to where I’m meant to go.

Smile into the fear and let it play

I hesitate to write this, but as I’ve said, this is my journal and this is what I need to talk about.  I haven’t discussed it with anyone in “real life” yet.  I don’t even know if I want to.  I probably should talk to Crazy Bruce about it when I see him tomorrow, but…I don’t know.

My memories of the car accident from 2005 are starting to come back.  I’ve always been very fortunate in that my memory “shut off” for the first ten minutes after impact.  My last cognitive memory (until recently) was of the grill of the SUV that hit us bearing down, too close.  After that, my brain went into shock and just shut down.  I was conscious the whole time, according to my mother and the paramedics at the scene, but I don’t remember about 10 minutes of time, during which the accident occurred, the paramedics and fire were called, etc.  I just didn’t remember anything until the EMTs were already there and in the car with me.

A few years ago, when I was working at Best Buy, someone hit me in my right hip (the point of impact) with a TV set that was on a cart.  When that happened, I experienced my first real flashback, and I’ve never had one quite so real or vivid of the accident ever since.  My vision blanked out and was replaced by a tree line, swaying over my head.  I couldn’t hear anything, I couldn’t see anything but that treeline.  It took me a minute to realize that my supervisor was yelling my name, that the woman who hit me with the cart was apologizing, that I was at Best Buy and not in the car.

There have been other moments when things have come back.  My face will itch on the side of my face where the scars are, and I’ll reach up to rub it absently, and then I’ll get flashes of memories back.  When I first was in the hospital, the doctors told me that memory is a delicate thing; that my brain had “chosen” to shut off in order to shield me from those worst moments, but that it might not be permanent, and I might very well get those memories back some day.  After nearly eight years, I thought I was in the clear.  On August 27th, it will be eight years since the accident.  I thought, really, that I had lost those ten minutes of my life forever, and truth be told, I was fine with that.  There are some memories you just don’t need to have, you know?

But in the last week, that memory, of the car grill, is becoming more vivid.  And there’s more to the memory than just the grill.  I can remember the point of impact now.  I can remember the car slamming into the passenger side door.  And then my brain shuts off again.  I don’t want to remember this.  I don’t know why, after eight years, those memories are suddenly available to me.

I’ve been reading about repressed memories and post-traumatic memory loss, and it’s weird, because even though I’ve been doing extensive reading on PTSD ever since I was diagnosed back in 2008, I always skipped over those sections, because I felt they didn’t apply to me.  After all this time, why should they?  But something I read made a lot of sense to me:

“a traumatic memory will not surface until that person has developed sufficiently to manage the intensity of that information and to have capacity to process it and build a resolve so that the traumatic memories can be put on a shelf along with all the other memories of a lifetime.” 

In other words…I couldn’t remember these things until my brain and body decided that I was mentally ready to handle them.  Which is a comforting thought, really, when you think about it.  It’s like my body has finally decided that I’m strong enough to handle the intensity.  And where my first inclination is to run away, hide, get as far away from those memories as possible…it’s somewhat comforting to feel that my body and brain think that I am capable of it, that even though I wasn’t in the past seven and a half years, I am now.

DS asked me yesterday how long it’s been since I started seeing Crazy Bruce.  It’s hard to believe that it’s been three years…I started seeing him in early 2010, when I was still living in Bristol.  Three years we’ve been together, chipping away at the demons inside of me, trying to make me into the best person I can possibly be.  Sometimes it feels like a Sisyphan effort, like I’m working so hard on self-improvement but it never gets anywhere.  But when I look back at what I was, and what I could have been, and compare it to now…compare the way I would have handled myself five years ago, pre-medication, pre-Crazy Bruce…then I can see the results.  I can see how it has all been worth it.

I’m a work in progress, but the outline is starting to make sense, you can see where this is going.  It’s like trying to look at a Monet painting up close.  You can’t see the delicate outlines, the way the colors compliment each other perfectly.  You only see the blobs, the shapeless flowers, the way everything runs together like a mess.  It’s only when you stand back far enough, that you can see that it really does all make sense.

 

Need a second to breathe

I have been a horrific blogger these days — foregoing all of my regularly-scheduled updates.  I don’t have an excuse at all, except that it’s the end of the semester, I’m focusing on moving and finishing papers and all of those other things, plus I have the world’s busiest social schedule (I really need to start saying “no” to people — at least until mid-May).

So if those are considered “good” excuses, then I guess I do have them. I had a lovely — if busy — week last week.

Thursday I went to Northampton to WEBS with my good friends Tina, Drea, and Jess.  Most of us had gift certificates from Christmas for WEBS, and we were all eager to use them.  And we were all on strict budgets for one reason or another.  But I came off so well!  I scored three skeins of Madelintosh Light in “Cousteau”…for 38 cents (after gift cards, of course).  It would have cost me $60 without the cards and discount!

 

I want to start knitting with it yesterday, but I’m holding off because as I’ve said, I have a massive load of papers to do before the end of the semester.  So I’m saving it as my “end of the semester” treat, for when I’m done.  I’m going to knit another Citron shawl.  I made one last year out of some beautiful green yarn, but I gave it to my grandmother for Christmas and never took any pictures of the finished product.  This one, though…this one is going to be for me.  I can hardly wait.

After WEBS, we went to Roberto’s in Northampton for dinner.  Dinner was good, but dessert…dessert was something special.  We each had the creme brulee — I had vanilla, Drea had blueberry, and Jess and Tina each had butterscotch bourbon.  And although mine was heavenly, I realized after taking a bite of Tina’s that I had made the wrong choice.  Butterscotch bourbon creme brulee is pretty much to die for, just an FYI in case you are ever in a situation where it is offered.  You won’t regret it (but, like me, you may regret passing it up!)

Friday: After work, I hit the gym to begin (again) Couch 2 5 K.  I have a horrible time with self-motivation, and although I’ve started C25K twice before, I’ve always managed to crash and burn out within the first two weeks.  I’m determined that I won’t do that this time.  After the gym I went out with Samantha and we went apartment shopping.  She made out like a bandit — got her duvet, a blender, a whiteboard for the kitchen, and sheets.  I didn’t do as well.  But I did get a cute set of canisters for the kitchen — something I’ve wanted for awhile:

And a mail organizer for the two of us (I can’t find a picture online).  I’m going to check out Marshall’s again today, since I need bed linens myself.  I had picked out a really cute set from Target, but the quilt alone was going to be $70 — all of the pieces I wanted together were going to be something like $110, and that was just for the quilt and two shams!  Nope, back to the drawing board.

Saturday didn’t begin at all like I had planned.  Samantha and I had purchased a sofa from Craigslist, and the owner said she would hold it until Sunday morning (when Sam could go get it) if I came out on Saturday morning and paid for it.  So I left at around 10 AM (after sending a text to the owner notifying her, per her request).  When I got to the apartment, nobody answered.  I went around the block, got an iced coffee from Dunks, and went back.  Same results.  Sent an email, no reply.  I’m pretty angry about it, especially since I wasted about an hour and a half of my time and the gas and wear on my car to leave empty-handed.  But at least I went to the gym and worked out my frustration on C25K Day 2.  It went better than Day 1.

After that, I went home, showered, and then sat down to watch the Red Sox/Royals game.  During which, I banged out my master’s thesis prospectus.  Twenty-two pages in five and a half hours.  I don’t think I need to explain how exhausted/relieved I was when that little project was done (plus, the Sox won).  The paper having been disposed of, I made BLTs for my dad, Christina, and Jess (a bacon veggie burger for myself) and french fries, and then watched Django Unchained with Christina and Jess while trying to bang out my literature review for my other class.  I got the five-page outline finished, and got about three pages of 20 done before I just gave up around 10:30.  I was getting to that point where my writing isn’t making sense; when I get there, it’s best to just close the whole thing down and start fresh another day.

Sunday I woke up early, went to church, and then made pancakes for everyone.  Then I took the car trip up to Pawtucket, Rhode Island, to see my friend Kim in Sweeney Todd.  Which was really great.  And she was really happy that I came.  I wish I could say that I got stuff done when I returned to CT, but I didn’t.  I didn’t get in until almost 7 PM and at that point I was so bushed that I just took a hot bath and made dinner and rested for the rest of the evening.  I passed out sometime between 10 and 11 PM and woke up with my alarm this morning.

 

Today…today I’m really excited because I have a brand spanking new computer at work.  I have counseling with D after work, and then the gym for Day 3 of C25K.  Then…I think it’s home to make dinner and finish that paper, or at least put a pretty big dent in it.

The trees are all in blossom and bud.  It’s finally spring

Boston, You’re My Home

The Marathon Bombings have taken all the wind out of New England’s sails today.  Boston is a wreck.  Nobody knows who did it, or who is responsible.  There is blood in the streets.  Men and women are missing limbs.  Parents went to bed last night without their child.  The city is in chaos, it will be weeks or months before we know who did this, years before everyone feels normal again, and never before we find out why.

I am not from Boston.  My family is.  My ex-husband’s family is.  I have so many friends who live in Boston that my heart was in my throat as I scanned my newsfeed on FB yesterday, mentally ticking off each person who checked in and said they were all right.  That beautiful city, my favorite in the world, torn to pieces on that most special day ingrained in Massachusetts’ history — Patriots Day.  It’s rocked Boston, Massachusetts, and New England as a whole.

But there is not a single doubt in my mind that Boston will rebound from this.  Boston is scrappy.  Boston is defined by its strength, by the legacy of the thousands of Irish immigrants who came to the city, forced there by the potato famine in Ireland.  The tenacity that makes the rest of the country call its people “Massholes”, some fondly, some in irritation.  The tough but loveable accents, the dropped “r’s” that sound like “a’s”.  The magical city of dreams where a ball team that hasn’t won in 86 years can defy all odds and take home the title.   The birthplace of our nation’s freedom, where the first shots of the Revolutionary War were fired.  The beginning that has no end.  Boston has everything.  Boston is everything.

And she will overcome.  The city by the bay will rebound from this, stronger than ever.  There is no doubting it even for a second.