Thursday, November 15, 2012

Get Down. Get Up.

Making rice in silence.
Semi silence, I can hear the rice cooker cooking.
Also I am dictating this blog to myself, you know, talking myself through some of my main problems in my brain, trying to figure things out a little bit.
It's called cleaning house, which by the way I did today.
You're welcome.
So here I sit, in my silent sparkling apartment, chillin'.
Waiting for Rice.
And then I ask myself: How did I get here?

This brought on a wave of emotion that I have been running from for weeks.
It did everything but leave me on the floor in the fetal position.

Half way through this video I am suddenly in the delivery room, holding my brand new son, covered in a fine grey fur. I swear! He was furry for a little bit anyways, and I am crying, and I am looking at him, and I am looking at T, and there is a flurry of activity as the nurses and doctors clean up and get ready to go on to the next delivery. But I am there, holding him in my arms, thinking that somehow this all makes sense and that I have a pretty good idea of where my life is headed. I can see the whole future, my family's collective future, so clearly in that delivery room. It is glorious!
And then I am worried that my tears might not be sanitary, and maybe that I should hand him over before I get him covered in my impure tears. This is what I am thinking holding my brand new son. And then someone takes him away and I sit down into the nearest chair and crash. The view of my future was so intense, it had to have taken at least a day or two off of my life. If my hair were capable of going grey, it would have. Instead, it just got more fabulous. 

Oh my lord, you guys, what is going on?
Probably one of the biggest mistakes I could have ever made was to think I had it all figured out, at least for a little while. Because you know what happens when you think you got it figured out? You know what happens when you get comfortable?
Someone, or something comes along and shows you exactly how little you actually know about yourself, your life, your surroundings, what have you.
That comfy recliner you are about to fall into gets pulled out right from under your ass.

But I'll be honest, I didn't see my current situation in that glorious vision I described.
Not even a glimmer, or a glimpse, or whatever you might call it, wherever you are from.
You get the gist.

Not that where I am at is terrible, or awful, or whatever you might call it wherever you are from.
It just isn't what I thought it would be, right now, currently.
It's just unexpected.
It's just life.

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