My mother always said if you didn’t have anything nice to say, not to say anything at all. It was her way of saying “don’t be mean” and “keep your complaints in your pocket there, bucko.”
When J went back over, the only thing that felt like an upside at all, was that I was going to write again. Blogging the last time he was over there was how I passed the time, how I chatted with J, how I shared his goings on with our friends and family. I enjoyed the process, and I enjoyed having the time chronicled.
You may have noticed (or hell, you might not have noticed) that the writing hasn’t happened this time. It’s not because I have mean things to say and am keeping myself from spewing vitriol upon the world (Oh don’t get me wrong. I could probably do that without too much pressing. But let’s be real, that simmers right under the surface most of the time anyway, regardless of J being deployed.) No one needs to hear that silliness, and getting up the energy to spew it just seems sort of exhausting.
And it’s not that I’m keeping my complaints to myself. Again, I’m certain that I could give you a laundry list of drama if you gave me a minute. But there’s no use in that either, and in the grand scheme of it all seeming very first world problem-y, well, it is.
To be honest, things are fine. Or as fine as one could expect when a husband is deployed and I’m trying to deal with a 2 year old and a full time job. Most days it’s fine. Some days it’s really great. Some days it sucks bigtime. And most days my job is amazing and accommodating and great. And others it’s incredibly frustrating and I want to walk into the office, flip the bird, quote “Half Baked” to the room, and call it a day (you all know the scene I’m talking about…)
So yeah…life for me sounds a lot like life for, you know, 80% of the planet, yes? Not a particularly compelling story to pen. And if I’m completely honest with you, dear readers (and myself), I just don’t have the time or energy for writing. This makes me sad a little bit, but it is my reality.
Last time J was over, I would have these beautiful epiphanies and think through these metaphors of what I was feeling and what we were going through for days before sitting down to write. And then I would carve out time to revise and tweak and find the exact words I wanted to express precisely how I was feeling in a very existential and ever-so-slightly-dramatic fashion.
Know what this week’s epiphany was? That I had gone 8 straight weeks remembering to take out the trash. And you know what the exact words I have to express precisely how I feel about all that?
“Badass.”
(Perhaps I shall write a blog post about the metaphor of taking on new home-related challenges and finding ways to accomplish these everyday tasks without J here. Or about how it all seems like a big heap of trash that I need to throw out each week so that I can start again anew... Bleh.)
But seriously folks…it’s the freaking trash. And I’m tired.
I’ve started about 3 different blog posts and deleted them all because they seemed pedantic and whiny and quite frankly not even the least bit interesting.
I have friends that have reached out to me so kindly, that I just haven’t responded to yet because sitting down to write about, you know, the trash, seems silly. I have friends whom I know very well and who I know are leaving me alone to let me get into my groove a bit before reaching out. I know who you are. Thank you for that. And yes, I owe you a call, too.
I have Facebook bursts where I will be on for like 24 hours straight posting non-stop. And then I’ll go a week without logging on. To be honest, I’m avoiding anything that looks like news or political commentary or, frankly anything that resembles drama right now (as I always do when J is over…) So any time I feel like someone’s going to post something about how hideous something is in the world, in life, in our government, or blah blah, I turn it off: The computer, my connection with the outside world, and my brain. Hunker down, and make sure to remember to buy milk and toilet paper. Because honestly, milk and toilet paper are sorta the priorities right now. I am blissfully disconnected from most things currently, and I am totally ok with that.
And so I’m here to tell you, things here are busy, hectic, non-stop, exhausting, but totally fine. Just like all of my friends lives are busy, hectic, non-stop, and exhausting. And for friends of J’s—he’s fine , too. Marking time. Doing his thing. Passing time in his own busy, hectic, non-stop, exhausting, totally fine (though totally random and other-side-of-the-world) life. For all who have so graciously asked…we’re all good. Exhausted and ever-so-slightly tunnel-visioned right now. But all good.
So maybe mom’s saying should have been "if you don’t have something to say, don’t say anything at all." And if that’s the case, then mum’s the word here. And that, I think, is a good thing.
When J went back over, the only thing that felt like an upside at all, was that I was going to write again. Blogging the last time he was over there was how I passed the time, how I chatted with J, how I shared his goings on with our friends and family. I enjoyed the process, and I enjoyed having the time chronicled.
You may have noticed (or hell, you might not have noticed) that the writing hasn’t happened this time. It’s not because I have mean things to say and am keeping myself from spewing vitriol upon the world (Oh don’t get me wrong. I could probably do that without too much pressing. But let’s be real, that simmers right under the surface most of the time anyway, regardless of J being deployed.) No one needs to hear that silliness, and getting up the energy to spew it just seems sort of exhausting.
And it’s not that I’m keeping my complaints to myself. Again, I’m certain that I could give you a laundry list of drama if you gave me a minute. But there’s no use in that either, and in the grand scheme of it all seeming very first world problem-y, well, it is.
To be honest, things are fine. Or as fine as one could expect when a husband is deployed and I’m trying to deal with a 2 year old and a full time job. Most days it’s fine. Some days it’s really great. Some days it sucks bigtime. And most days my job is amazing and accommodating and great. And others it’s incredibly frustrating and I want to walk into the office, flip the bird, quote “Half Baked” to the room, and call it a day (you all know the scene I’m talking about…)
So yeah…life for me sounds a lot like life for, you know, 80% of the planet, yes? Not a particularly compelling story to pen. And if I’m completely honest with you, dear readers (and myself), I just don’t have the time or energy for writing. This makes me sad a little bit, but it is my reality.
Last time J was over, I would have these beautiful epiphanies and think through these metaphors of what I was feeling and what we were going through for days before sitting down to write. And then I would carve out time to revise and tweak and find the exact words I wanted to express precisely how I was feeling in a very existential and ever-so-slightly-dramatic fashion.
Know what this week’s epiphany was? That I had gone 8 straight weeks remembering to take out the trash. And you know what the exact words I have to express precisely how I feel about all that?
“Badass.”
(Perhaps I shall write a blog post about the metaphor of taking on new home-related challenges and finding ways to accomplish these everyday tasks without J here. Or about how it all seems like a big heap of trash that I need to throw out each week so that I can start again anew... Bleh.)
But seriously folks…it’s the freaking trash. And I’m tired.
I’ve started about 3 different blog posts and deleted them all because they seemed pedantic and whiny and quite frankly not even the least bit interesting.
I have friends that have reached out to me so kindly, that I just haven’t responded to yet because sitting down to write about, you know, the trash, seems silly. I have friends whom I know very well and who I know are leaving me alone to let me get into my groove a bit before reaching out. I know who you are. Thank you for that. And yes, I owe you a call, too.
I have Facebook bursts where I will be on for like 24 hours straight posting non-stop. And then I’ll go a week without logging on. To be honest, I’m avoiding anything that looks like news or political commentary or, frankly anything that resembles drama right now (as I always do when J is over…) So any time I feel like someone’s going to post something about how hideous something is in the world, in life, in our government, or blah blah, I turn it off: The computer, my connection with the outside world, and my brain. Hunker down, and make sure to remember to buy milk and toilet paper. Because honestly, milk and toilet paper are sorta the priorities right now. I am blissfully disconnected from most things currently, and I am totally ok with that.
And so I’m here to tell you, things here are busy, hectic, non-stop, exhausting, but totally fine. Just like all of my friends lives are busy, hectic, non-stop, and exhausting. And for friends of J’s—he’s fine , too. Marking time. Doing his thing. Passing time in his own busy, hectic, non-stop, exhausting, totally fine (though totally random and other-side-of-the-world) life. For all who have so graciously asked…we’re all good. Exhausted and ever-so-slightly tunnel-visioned right now. But all good.
So maybe mom’s saying should have been "if you don’t have something to say, don’t say anything at all." And if that’s the case, then mum’s the word here. And that, I think, is a good thing.
