Sunday, November 4, 2007

Falling up

I *heart* daylight savings time. Well, in the fall, anyway. Spring forward sucks. Fall back? Oh, yeah, baby!

This year's extra hour is especially welcome since my brother is visiting. Ok, well, crashing is more like it. We hung out yesterday, and then he got up at 3:30 this morning (yes, I said it: 3:30 AM!) to drive to and compete in a rowing event.

Yes, I am related to a jock. No, I don't know how it happened, either.

I woke up to my alarm at 3:30, heard him already in the bathroom, and figured I'd roll out of bed to wish him good luck. Except the next time I rolled over, I heard the key in the lock and he was off. Yeah, I'm totally a supportive sibling.

So, I woke up again around 9 to find the fall sunlight dancing across my bedroom wall in a most pleasing way. My bed felt squishy and warm and wonderful. All was right with the world.

I thought about the hand lotion I'd bought last night (don't ask - I don't know why, either) and how I used to work at that store two - no, it was three! - years ago. Three years ago when I was convinced that I had ruined my life irreparably. Three years ago when I was struggling to make my way as a freelance writer, struggling to keep a shitty relationship together, and struggling to keep my pants up as I continued to drop weight for no apparent reason.

Ah, good times.

I was a broken little bird who moved out of my cozy house with the arts and crafts tiled fireplace into a shitty apartment with noisy, lotsa-sex-havin' neighbors. I cried for an entire month.

And then, it started to get a teensy bit better.

If I close my eyes, I can still feel the raw sense of having all of my skin peeled off my body. There was no hiding - I was in a world of hurt. But now? Now, I have to close my eyes and remember hard to get the feeling. Now, it's not an ongoing reality, but a point for gauging movement.

Now, I'm in love with a wonderful man who is in love with me. I want to marry him and he wants to marry me right back.

Now, I'm successful in my chosen field and I own my own home.

Now, I've gained back the weight and then some ... but I have a boobtacular rack to show for it.

So, really, three years ago seems like a minor lifetime ago.

1 comment:

Mrs. G. said...

Even at 40, three years can be a lifetime. That's why it is so important not to kill yourself if you know what I'm saying...not you but people in general. Is this making any sense? My point it that even when we are most depressed, it's worth hanging on because, well, three years can pass and things might start looking up. Yay for your happiness.