much later
today has been one of those shouldn't have gotten out of bed days.
this is proven by the fact that as soon as i started writing this, i leapt to my feet, rushed downstairs, and only caught the dry cleaners three minutes before closing time to pick up bartlebee's alterations. one of my two assigned tasks for the day.
this is pathetic as i just caught the dry cleaners four minutes after just catching sassyass who was on the way to meet me at a place where i most definitely would not be, as i'd completely spaced on the time to the order of an hour. luckily, i caught him before he bought tickets to the movie (precinct B13 -- in honor of zizou! -- we're going to a later show).
i'm all off balance today. spilled my breakfast five different times. tried and failed to get anything substantial accomplished. chased emails around the computer, trying to scare them away but they kept coming back. basically, all i can say i got done was the impossibly difficult renoir puzzle my moms bought but since i was doing that to relax and it didn't relax me, feh.
feh, i say. feh.
i do believe i'm buggin' about moving to new zealand for three to four years. i think being home is also disconcerting. being home without having a home and knowing home is still months away. without my space. or our space, as the newly-married case my be.
when you're gone for a long time, everyone seems different when you return. some look older. some more vibrant. some deeper into their own particular brand of wallow. the things they do, the ones that you had ceased to notice, now stand out.
i still like all my friends, i just don't recognize all of them. and for some of them i wonder: who the hell are you?
i wonder how much that has to do with being married. they talk about "your married friends" vs. "your single friends" and i'm beginning to see what they mean. those friends of mine whom bartlebee don't grok, well they just won't be seen as much. and those friends of hers who make me want to repeatedly knock my head into a cheese-grater, i think they'll be seen less too.
i guess i'm still finding my footing. and doing so while moving. like running down a rocky path while being pursued by wolves.
chocolate covered wolves. with marshmallow teeth. who are chasing me to new zealand.
I hate those days. Did you ever read "Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day?" It's the best depiction of that kind of day that I've ever read. Maybe it would cheer you up.
BUt 3-4 years??? Who said anything about 3-4 years? That's ridiculous.
And how are your visiting-the-East-Coast plans coming along?
By they way, if I make you want to knock your head into a cheese grater, you're just going to have to get used to shredded hair. I ain't going anywhere. Besides, I look more vibrant, less wallowy, and infinitely younger than the last time you saw me.
"marshmallow teeth"
marshmallows are one of the little differences between the US and NZ.
here they are much more dense than the light fluffy things i'm used to making s'mores with.
but given that i typically only eat about one s'more per year (on average), this hasn't been much of an adjustment for me.
all that aside, i'm a little trepidatious about how things in the US will have changed in the 3 years i've been gone. and more than a little scared about the things that haven't changed.