writing

Something Just Like This

I take a deep breath in and exhale to the count of eight. The forces of the Universe wash over me and I find myself pulled in infinite directions at once. Before panic sets in, I immediately center myself and take another deep breath, holding it and mentally repeating my goal for this meditation session in as few words as possible. This world needs more love, more kindness, more compassion. From everyone. I feel the energy around my heart open up and I relax into it. I breathe through the waves and use my chest to push them out to the earth that needs such healing and positive energy now more than ever. 

The pirates of the multiverse start to voice their objections, and I find myself beginning to split. I have to quiet them lest they negate the love with their hate, but it is a constant battle. I hush them, and take a sip of water, my meditation broken but not without, I believe, some benefit to the metaverse.

A few hours later, the chime of the door opening dings and I say “hey dere” and hear the familiar “hey dere” back. He greets Leia, our calico who waits for him at the top of the stairs when she sees him pull in the driveway. He puts his water bottle on the kitchen table then immediately retreats to the bedroom to change out of his shirt and tie so as not to sully them with the cat hair that is persistent. Ten minutes before he got home, I filled his water glass with ice and fresh water and placed it on his side table next to his recliner. I also took the opportunity to fill his bowl, so he has a freshie to smoke as he unwinds and relaxes from the stresses of his job. 

He sits down next to me and I wait until he is ready to talk before I pause my physics editing to give him my full attention. 

“Three trucks today, and Sam scheduled off so Abby and I had to unload and restock ourselves.” He has taken a part time job as the dairy man at a local specialty market to help pad our savings as we contemplate an interstate move in the near future. It’s hard on his body and it is not without its frustrations, but the hours are good and we are taking full advantage of the employee discount. Until something better comes along, he is making it work. I am deeply appreciative of the extra income, as it makes us that much closer to making our dreams a reality. 

Spotify plays in the background and Coldplay’s “Something Just Like This” takes its turn in the shuffle. 

“I had to return an octopus to the seafood department that somebody dumped in the dairy today. That was a new one.” I love when he tells me what he finds people have ditched. It makes me wonder what sparked the sudden divorce from a great dinner idea to dropping it all by the time they get to the other end of the store. 

After meditating in the morning, my day at home was spent editing physics, engineering, and law. Sometimes I have a tidbit to share that I have picked up from an article, but mostly I just say “work was good. I have to finish up after dinner. What’s for dinner again?” I could’ve looked it up on our menu app before he got home, but he sometimes has lightning strikes of inspiration and will switch things around at the last minute. Tonight we are having honey garlic cod with Parmesan couscous and maple glazed carrots for the side. The last chorus of Coldplay fades and the words repeat in my head, 

Where’d you wanna go?

How much you wanna risk?

I’m not lookin’ for somebody

With some superhuman gifts

Some superhero

Some fairy-tale bliss

Just something I can turn to

Somebody I can kiss

I want something just like this

His immediate presence calms me as he is my touchstone on this earthly plane. At a time when I explore dimensions in my brain through mindful meditation sessions, he reminds me that in this place and time there is only this one dimension that matters. I have a deep abiding love for the man who doesn’t have superhuman gifts, but who helps ground me so that I can explore the possibility of my own. 

He raises himself out of the recliner and goes to the kitchen to start dinner. I hear him hum as the fish sizzles in the iron skillet. A slow smile settles across my lips. Turns out, I want something just like this. 

The Last Lovebug

I take a right on Galbraith Road as the opening notes of Patsy Cline’s “Crazy” play against the faint crackle of static from the Dayton radio station. Still close enough to come in, but far away enough to not be completely clear. Instantly my heart twinges and I can feel the emotions start to bubble up as I remember my mom singing along to Patsy on the way to taking me to school. She loved that song. Still does, I’m quite sure, even though she is 3,000 miles away. I cross Kenwood and slow past the hospital, thinking this is the first of many lasts. I am on my way to pick up Ezra on their last first day of high school, the last of my three kids, the last one to need my driver’s license as their ticket to freedom before they launch on their own. 

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Seven Sentence for Sunday: The trying new things edition

  1. I finally went to a free crochet class that I have been meaning to attend for the past few months and I made three new friends and am well on my way to making a dish rag.
  2. I am also relearning French via Duo Lingo and am at a level 43 out of 160, so I have a ways to go.
  3. Biscuits and gravy for dinner tonight; sometimes we have lots of veggies, tonight we had none. I ain’t complaining, that gravy was delicious!
  4. I am 3 pounds away from losing 50 lbs from my top weight. I wouldn’t mind losing 50 more, but I’d be happy with 30-40. I think my doctor would be fine with that too. I just seem to be okay with losing at a turtle’s pace—especially if it means I get biscuits and gravy for dinner every three months!
  5. Harvard released their applications for their extension campus. I have vowed that when we get moved and settled I am going to apply for my masters in creative writing. I feel like I should be able to finish my novel as a capstone project.
  6. WWE’s women only event Evolution is on tonight. When Rhea Ripley walked into the arena with no makeup on I swear my heart took an extra beat. That woman does things to men and women alike!
  7. This is the first time I have written in 3 years. In the spirit of doing new things I figured I d revisit an old thing while I was at it. I am glad to be back, for however long.

You’d Be Prettier If You Smiled

This is my entry into the NYC Midnight Rhyming Story Challenge. The parameters were 600 words max, Genre: Action/Adventure, Theme: Hunger, Emotion: Infuriated. Let me know what you think in the comments.

It was a day like no other,

It started out shitty

When the barista said

Smile more, you’d be pretty. 

So I gave him the finger,

Stomped away in a huff.

Left without breakfast and coffee,

Hoping a tic tac would be enough

To get me through to lunch

Or maybe a snack.

What was this? Construction ahead

Please cut me some slack. 

So I turn down an alley,

A shortcut to work,

When a pack of dogs confronts me

All going berserk. 

I use my only superpower 

Calming techniques through DBT.

The dogs start to back down

They can feel my energy. 

I make it to my desk

With five minutes to spare.

I ask my cubicle mate

If she’s got a granola bar to share.

“Nothing for you,” she says. 

Oh, don’t be such a twat. 

I just asked for a snack

That’s not really a lot. 

That canine confrontation sapped me

I can feel my temper rise. 

What I wouldn’t give for a donut 

Or hell a burger and fries. 

Then it hits me, 

Alleluia, I am saved.

My emergency quarters

In my desk for a rainy day.

To the snack machine I go

Clutching my quarters tight.

The Funyuns and Cheezits beckon,

They are such a beautiful sight. 

Motherfucker no. 

This isn’t happening to me. 

The bag is stuck in the coil.

Dear Satan let me be. 

I shake the machine

Then lean my head and cry. 

I think it’ll be easier 

If I lie here and die. 

Limited PTO

Gets my butt back to my desk.

I’ll have to trudge through 

I can only try my best. 

I pull up a file

And start the pre-edits.

The words run together

My stomach gives me fits.

Somehow I manage 

Over the next three hours

To beat back the belly demons

Though I can still feel their glowers.

11:30 hits,

This bitch is out

Lunchtime fuckers

Let the hungry child out. 

Move it, dude, 

You’re moving so slow

Tie your shoes elsewhere 

I’m a woman on the go. 

I get to my favorite haunt 

Without much of a fuss.

The tide is turning my way

I hope, I pray, I trust. 

Much to my horror

I see the handwritten note:

The fryer is down, 

No food today, no hope. 

And then I feel it rising 

From my gut to my cheeks,

Anger so deep

It’s been simmering for weeks.

In the blink of an eye

My head just popped

Brains and goo all over 

That poor falafel shop. 

Official cause of death

Temper tantrum caused by hanger

A leading cause in young women 

A fatal unspoken danger. 

So, you see, St Pete

There’s no way I’d be dead

If that asshole barista

Had given me my breakfast instead. 

I stand before you

A victim of circumstance.

Please let me into heaven.

Please take a chance.

Seven Sentences for Sunday: The Kids Chime In Edition

  1. I broke my New Year’s resolution and missed 2 weeks of SSFS. I am not to be deterred, however, and am picking up where I left off.
  2. The kids have decided to help me with this week’s SSFS, which eases the burden of coming back from a break.
  3. Sometimes a waffle is just a holy pancake—-J, philosophically.
  4. This game is bullcrap!—Ez upon realizing she had Zero pie pieces to my and Jolie’s 5 a piece in Trivial Pursuit Family Edition.
  5. Isn’t Kenya a singer?—Ez, confusing Enya with the Geography question.
  6. Keemstar is weird.—My strange little child R’s contribution to the list.
  7. And we’ll end with another Ez-ism. “Mom–notice anything different about me?” as she presented herself before me after a trip to the bathroom. I scanned for any trace of makeup or perfume and then said, “Give me a hint.” She said, “Nothing is different. I just wanted to trick ya.” So there.

I love you all, some more than others.

Seven Sentences for Sunday: The Blank Space Edition

  1. I might have to make this Seven Sentences for Monday since that seems to be the only day I remember to do them.
  2. I am really regretting not taking the kids to the women’s march in Cincinnati on Saturday–I think witnessing and taking part in a peaceful protest would have been good for them, and me. Alas, I played chauffeur for J and a friend to the movies instead. Missed opportunities.
  3. The Mayor and I took “before” pictures and measurements today for DDP Yoga. It’s ridiculous how inflexible I am. I am looking forward to seeing my progress after a month.
  4. I have had Fitz and the Tantrums’ “Roll Up” looping in my head–it’s a ridiculously fun song but I know exactly none of the words, which makes it difficult to sing along.
  5. While selling Girl Scout cookies with Ez yesterday an approximately 95 year old man answered the door wearing an adult diaper and a robe that was completely open. After we left (he didn’t buy anything) Ez looked at me and said, “Mom, I think I’m scarred for life.” I don’t blame her.
  6. Aziz Ansari was amazing on SNL. His monologue was on point and his acting in the sketches was awesome. I’m looking forward to Master of None coming back to Netflix.
  7. After selling cookies in 63 degree weather on Sunday, I am ready for spring. So is Ez as she skipped along the sidewalk singing, “I am ready for spring….” Alas, the weather calls for 30 degree temperatures over the next week, so we are still in winter mode for a while. Boo.

I love you all, some more than others.

Seven Sentences for Sunday: The Shh, It’s Monday Edition

  1. I feel like I was suddenly thrust into adulthood this past week when we plunked down $12K for a new HVAC system because our last one was a fire hazard—thank goodness for 60 months same as cash. Practically like buying a car!
  2. I took the kids and J’s friend, Ava, to see Sing! on Tuesday before school started back. A welcome relief from the stressors of school.
  3. J is on restriction from her electronics for the rest of the month—this hurts me more than it hurts her, I think. Or at least as much so.
  4. I totally meant to sit down and write yesterday but the rush of three kids smothering me with hugs and kisses got in the way and I forgot. At least I’m my own editor and can only chastise myself so much before shrugging it off and writing on Monday instead.
  5. Switching meds again is no fun, but at least this time wasn’t met with ridiculous weight gain like the other times.
  6. The med switch does have me hearing the crackles and pops of the Universe in a whole new way–it’s comforting.
  7. It’s snowed, which means I am officially done with winter now and spring can come soon. How am I going to make it through the next two months???

I love you all, some more than others!

Seven Sentences for Sunday: The Welcome 2017 Edition

  1. How lucky for me that the first day of the new year falls on a Sunday–perfect for me to start up my Seven Sentences again under the guise of a new year, new me.
  2. The mayor and I celebrated the new year in style–NYE we had filet mignon and lobster tails with apple tartlets a la mode for dessert. We watched the ball drop and kissed at midnight–I rolled over and was asleep by 12:02.
  3. I would like to read more in 2017. Reading physics all day spoils a good fiction for me when I’m off the clock.
  4. I would also like to write more, though I’m unsure if I still have it…so I’m starting with Seven Sentences.
  5. We started the new year off right this afternoon by trekking down to Paul Brown stadium and watching the Bengals beat the Ravens 27-10.
  6. As a follow up to #5, I would like to get out of the house more in 2017, mid-distance adventures, and at least one adventure where I have to take an airplane are on my list.
  7. The Mayor and I have started watching My Name is Earl. I missed this little gem the first go round—thanks to Netflix I can wrestle with karma in between trips to the universe.

I love you all, some more than others……..

Seven Sentences for Sunday: The Anxious Annie Edition

  1. The Mayor and I completed our first 5K together yesterday in honor of suicide prevention. Such a worthy cause and such and incredibly fun workout. We held hands the entire way and had some great conversation. And now we already want to do another one again soon.
  2. I gained 0.2 pounds this week. Not bad considering I didn’t hit the gym once, but I still need to get my butt in gear and get those numbers going in the opposite direction.
  3. The closer we get to closing on our house, the more nervous I get that something is going to come along and screw it all up. I am trying to remain positive, but this anxiety is getting the best of me.
  4. The Mayor got a job where he has to work outside of the house. This seems like a silly point for most, but we have worked side by side at home for the past 20 months, so it’s going to take some getting used to. I’m incredibly proud of him for following his passion, though.
  5. I am looking forward to working out this week with my new gym partner—my 12 year old daughter J. Maybe I can instill the love of exercise with her at an early age since it seems to have bypassed me.
  6. R is looking for a new book series to read. She is finishing Percy Jackson and couldn’t get into the Lord of the Rings that I bought her. Maybe another Rick Riordan? Narnia? Or Lemony Snicket? Suggestions?
  7. Every year there comes a time—and it’s never predictable when it is—when work is slow. I am lucky to get an article a day. That time has been this past week, which has only made my nerves worse because I have nothing to focus on but the creeping negative thoughts. But I keep fighting the good fight.

I love you all, some more than others.

Seven Sentences for Sunday: The Fed Up Edition

  1. Hairballs are disgusting; I am glad I have The Mayor to clean them.
  2. I must remember that losing weight is a journey not a sprint. I am 7 weeks in, 7 lbs down and already fed up with how slow this is happening.
  3. I had a mini breakdown yesterday due to lack of motivation for working out. But as a good friend says, those days are going to happen, it’s how you handle them and then crush your goals despite them.
  4. I might be looking to bootcamp again. I think I miss the camaraderie and the accountability.
  5. Any bootcamping will have to be done after June 1 because we will be moving before then.
  6. That’s right, we got approved, put an offer on a house, it was countered, then I accepted. Closing is May 16, which means I only have 36 more days of nerves to deal with.
  7. I want to go to the first day of Bunbury so bad: The Killers, The Mowgli’s, Red Wanting Blue. Now I just have to find a sitter for 12 hours.

I love you all, some more than others.