There is a spot of white on our red bath mat. Bleach, I guess. I stare at it, willing it away. It stays.
She loves her puppy toy - a stuffed puppy head with a blue ribbon tied around its neck. She carries it around in her mouth. Puppy has stuffing coming out of his neck. I smile at the role reversal.
The dining room table is piled high with paperwork - workers compensation forms, explanation of benefits forms, proof of dependency forms, and this week's Sports Illustrated. Every day I tell myself that today will be the day that I clean the table off, but I just can't find the motivation to go through those papers.
We are moving soon. Again. My husband got a tenure track
job. A friend of ours from graduate school works in the same
department. He has a lovely wife and two adorable children. I am so
excited that we will be in a place where we have friends.
are moving soon. Again. My husband is super psyched about his new
job. But the move is to a smaller town than the one I currently bitch
about nonstop. My head hurts when I think about the logistics of
grocery shopping in that small town.
The kids in the middle school across the road are always outside. They throw balls to one another in the parking lot, they run up and down the alley behind the building, and they are always on the tennis courts, lackadaisically hitting balls over the net. It does my heart good to see those kids outdoors.
The garden place in town opened up yesterday. I stopped and lovingly patted the parsley pots and got super excited about the organic potting soil. He doesn't want them, he said. He doesn't want to move the plants. I want to cry because it's the only thing I've been looking forward to. I know it's dumb, I know it's stupid, but I want herbs in the windowsill. I want to feel the potting soil in my hands. But I know he's right. Who wants to move the plants? I do. I really do.
Everyday I can see the trees getting greener and greener. Spring is finally here. I can walk more and more every day. I can ride my bike farther and farther. I can fit in those jeans once again. All right, maybe not comfortably, but give me another month at the gym. There is an end to these endless days.
I know that someday it will all come together. In the meantime, I will vacillate between the highs and lows, dreaming of that day.