Hi Monday, I've never been so happy to see you. Let's make out.
It was somewhere between my car temporarily breaking down, realizing my ex-Love (hi, that's weird to say) had jetsetted off to Japan for a major tour that would go through the U.S. opening for a big artist (whom you all would know), while I was stuck here mending and questioning and not! touring! the! world!, then getting sick (antibiotics mean no drinking? For one. whole. week.) and losing a couple different major freelance jobs in the matter of one week, that I decided I'd like a "redo." Easy button perhaps? Voodoo to release past karma- did I steal from the elderly in my previous life? Hunt ivory from endangered species? What the hell? I was honestly waiting for the last shoe to fall; a gigantic clunky heel of death. Or some incurable stage 5 disease. Boyfriend, gone. House, gone. Job(s), gone. Car, gone. SANITY, to smithereens.
While I was leaning over the hood of my car like the beginning of a bad horror movie, trying to figure out how to open the damn thing, my dress flying wildly (up and into places that onlookers shouldn't have seen) and my hair getting stuck to my lip gloss- I decided that not only did this week suck a hard nut, but that being single did too.
"This is what boyfriends do! They fix car things, or at least talk you through the roadside panic." I growled to myself through a clenched jaw, throwing in a few "Fuck my lifes" in for good measure, "GOD DOESN'T WANT ME TO HAVE POSSESSIONS EITHER?!" I think I maybe screamed that. Maybe. Then I stomped. Because I'M A CHILD. And because my car represents the last ounce of "home" and control that I still have. Control to drive for hours if I feel like it up the highway and back listening to chick songs and ugly crying, or overdosing on iced coffee.
....Or to toy with the idea that maybe one day, I'll just keep driving.....somewhere....until I've found a new life, a nice life- with pretty colored glass jars, sun tea with fresh lemon slices, simplicity and boys that bring you daisies.
When I realized that I had I absolutely no way of fixing my car without some assistance (Hi AAA, you save my life- turns out the battery was just 'disconnected'), I did what any smart woman does in a time of need; I ATE PIE. A LOT OF PIE. Like, a whole fucking pie.
When the pie settled, that choice felt just about as good as a one night stand. Tasty and tempting, but leaves you empty, regretful, void of substance and even hungrier for the "real shit."
Stomach ache in full throb, I realized; The reason all of this was so hard was because I was being manhandled into making choices, starting over and letting go of things that I wasn't ready to. The slate was wiped clean for me and now I actually had to fill it up with something new, but what would that be?
Sometimes when we aren't making choices for ourselves the Universe/Life/Whatever you want to call it, steps in and decides to make those choices for us. They rip off the Band-Aid and make you face the fact that you're trying to hide something under there that needs your attention. It's painful, it stings- you want to tell everyone to "fuck off" and throw the middle finger right up to the sky- I know, I'm the master of this these days. The amount of discomfort you'll feel when you're pinned into making a CHOICE that you weren't making in the first place because it was terrifying, or you were unsure, or it meant facing other unsatisfactory aspects of yourself, is ASTRONOMIC.
It's about as uncomfortable as having a nipple itch when you're leading a PowerPoint presentation.
You're forced into making choices now that you weren't ready to make.....but would you have ever made them if you weren't forced to???
I can't say that I would've. I like to think that I would be smart/creative enough to get myself out of certain ruts that I'd made a nice nook in, but I can't say that that'd be true. So yes,
things are wildly uncomfortable right now. My canvas is still relatively blank, my bank account is shameful, my heart is still pulsing to the rhythm of a twisted and depressive Rachael Yamagata song and sometimes I flip things off. Yes, things.....but in these moments of distress and self-doubt, when I start feeling sorry for myself, or slamming random letters on the keyboard to my ever-patient friends, and whimpering like a puppy into my wine glass, I remind myself of the quote by Rumi;
"This being human is a guest house. Every morning a new arrival. A joy, a depression, a meanness,some momentary awareness comes as an unexpected visitor. Welcome and entertain them all!.....He may be clearing you out for some new delight. " Rumi- full poem here.
What will you "welcome" into your life today??