Beached Whale

Once again, I seriously overslept. I needed it though – while I know that sleep is not something that you can really make up for after the fact, it’s been quite a few days since I’ve been able to get 6 hours.

I’m absolutely dreading leaving for work this weekend – why am I even going? I do need the money, but it’s more like an abstraction, the “need”. I was talking to one of my girlfriends about it last night. I want to get my investments in line, but the hardest part really is figuring out how to get my actual physical money into the bank. I filed an extension on my taxes this year, unsure of what ‘s going to happen with everything after I efuckinventually sell this house, I so badly want to shed all this weight. He is so much heavier than I am.

There is something to think about there – while a lot of my baggage is clearly mine, and I have talked about a lot of it, a lot of the baggage was his, and now I can be rid of it. That’s actually wonderful news! Speaking of, I dreamed of his sister last night, one of them, the craziest one, although I’m pretty sure he’s now holding the title for the psycho of the family.

I was at a beach, the kind of beach that I had in my college hick town1

I parked my car, my current car not my college car, up in the parking lot across the street from the giant, still lake that somehow existed on top of the mountain immediately on the other side of the road. Other people had parked there too, and I knew them, but we are no longer friends2. I don’t know if we were just going to all pretend we were cool with each other or not, or what the plan was, but I don’t think I was hanging out with them all that much.

The place was sandy in the way river and lake beaches are, a dusty, gritty sand with a lot of organic material in it but somehow still mostly sand, which all together makes you wonder about the power of erosion and the inevitable pull to the sea and how most of the sand in the Mariana trench was actually pulled ice ages ago from the tops of the now tattered Appalachian mountain range, how easy it would be to drown and maybe they just trucked it in from the big pile sitting behind the DPW.

I think we were camping there, I did have a sleeping bag and all that even though my dorm, in my mind (I know it was not my house) was a few minutes away. And yes, gritty sand, just enough to be annoying, was getting in everything.

I clearly remember my sneakers, actually they resembled the pair that my Haitian girlfriend had been given by her almost-immediately-after-ex3 boyfriend, they had been new, but they became all dusty and actually had a hole ripped in the instep of the right shoe, in the leather part. They were white with blue and yellow thick rubber soles.

Someone, actually a pair but I only paid attention to one of them, walked up and stopped. It was my ex’s sister, looking at me sitting with my modest hick car camp at the edge of the parking area.

I can’t remember the exact conversation, but I do remember her voice. She had had a beautiful voice, I’m sure people had told her (incidentally, just like that friend I no longer have), but she never did anything about it, and really never did much of anything at all (just like that friend I no longer have). The end of the conversation was that she asked if I would be there next Friday… because it was her birthday. She was turning 50 years old. It was then I realized how sad her life must have been. To be honest it always did look pretty pathetic, I would say more but I don’t want to be mean.

1. The dream version of the town I went to college in has actually come up a few times lately, mostly when I was sleeping next to the boy. The hills are exaggerated and the roads are all dirt, and the horizon stretches impossibly on forever… the way it felt when I first realized that I couldn’t run away. Where could I go, what direction was home? 2. It was actually my shallow neighbor, who I’m afraid will try to sleep with the boy out of spite… unfortunately he’s stupid and will probably go with it, and they will probably get along great, and I really should just kick him off to the side and continue with my life <=== this is how I felt about my ex, for the last half of our relationship, and yeah, he did sleep with a lot of stupid bitches. 3. I miss my side dude, he would appreciate this, however, I’m trying not to fuck him.

Everything works out so much better when I don’t try to do so much.

I’ll feel really guilty if I end up bailing on my appointments this weekend.

One Comment Add yours

  1. Anna says:

    It just occurred to me that my ex and I purchased each other shoes on many occasions… one of the few things he ever did was make sure that I a good pair of boots.

    How did we ever think this was going to last.

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