Work

Dearest Friend,

I loved the weather today, did you see it? It was one of those early summer rains that makes the world seem new again when it's over. The electricity in the air, the blustering clouds, the heat- it was a good day for weather. I'm writing this up here because the post below seems petty and unworthy of a place like this. It's not filled with dreams or good things, it's something gritty that I don't like and don't really want to leave here, but I feel obligated to let it be. It's not poetic, it's not beautiful and this should be a place for the poetic and beautiful, so I apologize. As I write this I'm watching K sleep. There's something so enjoyable about watching a small child sleep. Their chests rise and fall without the weight of the world on them. Tiny toes twitch to dream music and smiles curl to crystal lullabies. A sleeping child is truly the most innocent thing in the world. Where does childhood go when it leaves us? It seems like it happens so suddenly- one day you're on the swing set and the next you're paying bills and "adulting". Wherever it is, I'd like to vacation there someday. The dog sleeps differently than K, not a surprising observation. Rhona is a much more animated (and noisy) sleeper. She's probably chasing something in her dreams because all of her feet are moving, she growls and then her tail wags. Usually the tail wag will wake her up for a few seconds. Slumbering creatures are enthralling.

Here's to joining them

L





(Disclaimer- this post is terrible.)

Dearest Friend,

I have a love hate relationship with work. I enjoy working hard. I enjoy creating things with my hands, and I love feeding people. I don't love working hard for someone else. I don't love long hours on my feet that seem to go unappreciated. I don't enjoy full time work and full time school and being a full time Mom. My work ethic comes from my family- my father has always been a dedicated worker, many times more dedicated to the work than to being a father. My Aunts and Uncles and Grandparents and cousins all work hard. It seems to be the way of the Reedy/Jones clan. But, I don't want to work this hard for the rest of my life. I am driven and I want a career, but often times I find myself questioning what I am doing and if I am in the right field for who I want to be. The food industry is difficult and unforgiving to working mothers. Unless you're a dishwasher. The hours for a chef are insane, and "weekends" don't exist. The nights are longer, and days are spent catching whatever Zs you can. Is it worth it? Is this thing that I love worth missing out on time with my daughter? Is the thing that makes my soul hum worth more than being with the little one that makes it sing? Some days it isn't. If I'm being honest, most days it isn't. You see, I've come to realize that the reason my family's work ethic is so strong and why we are so dedicated to throwing ourselves into whatever we are doing, is avoiding reality. Alcoholism doesn't run through our veins, it gallops. We are riddled with mental illness, drug addiction, criminal activity, and abuse- so work is an escape. For me, I can push myself to work long hours so I don't have to face what's going on around me. I don't have to think about friends who have just lost their children, or people I care about in the hospital or people that I've loved that have passed away or people that I love that don't love me back. I don't have to worry about whether or not I will find a man to spend my life with, because if I'm working constantly, I don't have time to worry about it. If I'm working, I don't have time to feel.

As a self-proclaimed emotional-retard, work is great for me. As a self-proclaimed emotional-retard, work isn't doing me any favors.

I have a difficult time when it comes to the realm of emotions and explaining what I feel into terms that I (or anyone else) can understand. I think I tend to feel things on a deeper level than most people do, yet I don't show my emotions as much as the average Joe. I suck at talking about what's going on in my head. There's a huge disconnect between my heart, my brain, and my mouth. I don't know how to say what my heart is feeling without my brain shutting down and verbal vomit coming out of my mouth. I don't know why this post is going in this direction. I think it may be because of  Mr. H. I feel like the biggest idiot on the face of the earth for liking him so much. Hell, for loving him. It's a terrible feeling to stand there, offering someone everything you have and watching them sift through the broken pieces, the pieces that still hurt to move, and them telling you that it's not good enough. That you're not good enough. I know that it's silly to be hung up on this boy, but I am. It seems as though there's been a fundamental shift in our relationship, something has happened and I am no longer as important as I once was. It's probably a good thing for the long run, but right now it sucks. I know he's not mature enough for me and I know he's not the best person for me, but for some stupid reason he had to be the first person I've legitimately felt like I had a chance with since Brennan. It makes me angry. It makes me feel this inner turmoil that I can't explain and I can't make go away and the entire situation makes me feel like I am inadequate. It's so stupid. SO STUPID. I was fine being on my own. I was fine with the possibility of being an old maid. I was fine until he showed me that I wasn't. Gah.

It's a shame that being a strong woman so often means being alone. It's a shame that single-mother's who aren't money-hungry whores get treated like they are. It's a shame that a woman  should have to choose between a successful career and a successful family. It's just a god damn shame that the first person I've kissed since I was married had to be him.  I was dumb to think that he would understand or respect the weight of that. I don't think many people understand the weight of a failed marriage.

Okay. That's enough for tonight. Hopefully Morpheus has something happier in store for my dreams.

L