I need to leave by Eleven. I have work to do for two employers today. I had yesterday off, but it was not relaxing. Emotionally, I haven't begun to sort through it yet and my body it enacting it's own form of violent takover. I feel like I could cry, but I'm pretty sure it's just wicked hormonal cycles rather than deep bubbling "needing to be worked through" feelings. Still like I said, I haven't started to sort through yesterday, yet.
Yesterday really isn't a big deal. I'm taking care of my friend's daughter while he's in Europe with his band. It's only ten days, and honestly I don't really get to see much of him when he's here. We both have very busy lives: lots of obligations and tons of general life issues to sort out, categorize, weigh and ponder. For some reason though, I guess that I am missing him—probably because I KNOW he's really far away. . . OK, fine. I'm really crying now. I guess I did need to work through some feelings. I take it for granted that he's "there"—closeby if I need a hug or a pep talk. I'll have to listen to those feelings more later. I have no idea what on earth to do with them even that there is really anything that I can do with them. Whatever it is, it's okay.
It's ten after Nine, though now, and I've still got time that I need to spend with my children. Precious little more than an hour to love them before I leave for work. When I get home, they'll be with their dad for the rest of the weekend. Monday is the first day of school. I'm going to be over at the school on Monday to take my kindergarten girl for her assessment. I'm grateful for the excuse to be at the school a little bit, to see them and give them hugs. I will have them three days next week and then they'll be back with their Dad for another weekend. . . a weekend which includes my birthday. It's painful. . . I had no idea how much it would hurt to have so little time with them. Days like today, I'd love to just sit quietly and hold them as much as they'd let me. I hate leaving for work when I know that they'll be gone when I get home. It feels wrong.
It is a huge blessing to have my friend's daughter here for two of the three weekends in a row that the kids will be with their dad. It helps him, but it will help me, too. I'm grateful.
It's just a rockin' time of year, this part. It's a time to float, a little bit. Do only the absolutely necessary and allow the rhythm of things to carry me. I'll take it all day by day. Before I know it, mid-September will be upon us and we'll all be headed up to the lake for some quiet happy days together. I'll survive.
It's nine thirty.