2017-12-12 How Do They Do It?

This past weekend I had an interview with the manager at my gym for a position as a front desk attendant. For those who don’t know, there’s typically a person who stands at the info desk near the entrance to the gym and is responsible for greeting people.

The other job responsibilities include, as I discovered Sunday, cleaning, running the cash register, and answering the phones. No sales, no membership discussion, and “no stress”. It really would be the perfect side gig for me to pick up a shift here or there for some extra spending cash. Right?! But there’s a catch. The pay.

“Minimum wage”, he says. “Our hands are tied on this one and it’s dictated by corporate”. When he said that I just smiled and nodded because that’s what you do in a job interview.

So what is minimum wage in Nebraska? Nine dollars an hour. NINE DOLLARS AN HOUR. What??

My first jobs in the 90’s were all minimum wage. One was a waitress which was 2.15 an hour plus tips. The others were 4.25 I think. When I moved to Nevada, I landed a gig at the Treasure Island Hotel that was 75 cents above the minimum which I believe was around 5 bucks an hour. That was 1993.

That means, boys and girls, that in 24 years, the minimum wage has only been raised by about 4 dollars. This varies from state to state, but not by much.

There is no way in Hell that this increase covers or matches the cost of living increases that have also happened in the last 20+ years. Plus, the government is also taking a much bigger cut for taxes than ever before. And don’t even get me started about the extra cost of healthcare.

I’ve done the calculations recently looking at tax brackets and figuring in things like social security and Medicare. It’s out of control. For a person making a 9 dollar an hour wage, about 20% is going to come right off the top, leaving about $7.20 for “take home”.

For someone working 50 hours a week, which they would have to do just to survive, it comes out to less than 20K a year. That’s just insanity.

The intent of minimum wage is supposed to be a wage a person can live on. It’s not intended to be a supplemental or student wage. A person entering the work force as an unskilled laborer should be able to pay for housing, transportation, and food. And perhaps that’s possible, but there is no way for anyone to save or plan ahead for emergencies or, god forbid, other things that increase their quality of life like vacations or entertainment.

It makes me wonder how people who earn minimum wage do that. It also makes me wonder how corporations get away with that as an offering or policy. I mean I know how and why they do it. The bottom line is King and as long as people accept it, they will keep doing it.

What I’m really asking is how do the people dictating these policies sleep at night? Do they have no conscience? Have they gone so far in their own life that they have forgotten what it’s like to be at the beginning? Perhaps they started from a place of privilege and have never been there at all. In any case, it’s sickening.

I’m fortunate enough to not have to live on minimum wage. I’ve come a long way myself, and truthfully did not realize this was a thing until I started looking into it.

This job at the gym would be perfect for me (if I had the spare hours, which I probably won’t). However, I can’t, in good conscience, work for a company that refuses to give what is probably 20% of their work force any more than the minimum. Shame on them.

The person I talked with on Sunday is supposed to call me today to let me know if they want to hire me. I’m ready.. “No thanks!”.

I’m Out,

~Miss SugarCookie


2017-12-10 The Curse of the Logical Mind

There is no escaping reality. Believe me, I’ve tried.

Well.. I’ve tried enough to feel really shitty for a couple of days after drinking too much. That’s where I was last year in the weeks leading up to and following Christmas. I hit rock bottom and did not want to live anymore. I was not suicidal, but I remember thinking I just could not do it anymore. Something had to change.

What I am writing now is not about that, nor is it about my failed relationship with Matt or any of the details behind why I had to quit my job. I’ve gone round and round those topics so much, there is no need to repeat it. What it is about, is now, and how no matter how much I try to just hum merrily along to life’s sweet melody, there are tough things to face and facts that weigh heavy on my mind.

I’ve been enjoying a fair amount of success with just about everything I try, for a long time. One thing that seems to dodging me, has to do with relationships. More specifically, romantic relationships. This year I attempted to dip my toe into the dating pool and got in enough to realize how unpleasant the water is, and got right back out again. I did, however, find someone on my way out.

We met on July 23rd and it was very slow to start. In the month to follow, I only saw him a couple of times and a few of those took me way outside my comfort zone, but I kind of dug it. In September we started seeing each other more and by October I was staying over at his house some nights when I did not have the kids. That continued into November as I became more and more comfortable with things, and not worried as much about how he feels about me. The other thing that I realize more and more as time goes by is that he’s not right for me.

I’ve done so much soul searching, self-evaluation, and analysis of past relationships in the last couple of years, I think I have what I want and what I need from a partner pretty nailed down. I’m “in it to win it” so to speak. I want someone for the duration. The duration being.. the rest of my life. I need someone who wants and needs me, which one would think would be easy to find. I want a partner who I can challenge and who will challenge me so we can elevate each other and be better human beings. I want someone who wants to be active and healthy with me. I want someone who likes to travel and experience new things. I want someone who I can communicate with and who does not have issues with communication. Obviously I want to find a good person with a kind heart. There’s lots of fine print, but these are the general overarching qualities.

I don’t want to just completely dismiss the fine print, because we all know the devil lives in the details. Maybe those general things above are fairly easy to come by and can help me rule out certain people very easy on (if I ever decide to date again). The tricky part is determining if any of the details will also be a deal breaker. This is where my logical mind starts to wreck havoc on my thought processes. The problem (or curse) may not even be a logical one, but instead just my tendency to overthink things.

As of right now, my brain has started compiling a list of these details as far as Simon is concerned and most of them have little red flags attached. Don’t get me wrong, there are lots of positives too, but how do they stack up against the other side? In a world ruled by balance, if the scales are tipped too far the wrong way, it’s hard to ignore.

If I were to start listing out some of these details one might think I was certifiably crazy, but I am who I am and I know what I am capable of overcoming and dealing with and what I am just not. I also know some things based on my historical relationships, and if those red flags present, then it’s for sure trouble, because it means it was something I could not get over.

  1. I don’t want to be cold. If the house is set below 70 degrees, ever, that’s not an environment I can be comfortable in.
  2. I don’t want to have to drive across town to see someone, and if I do, then they have to split that driving 50/50. In fact, it’s great if most things are 50/50. If I end up doing most things myself (including paying for things), then forget about it. (obviously more applicable if living together).
  3. I do fad-diets and go through cycles of eating and not eating certain things. I not only don’t want to be judged for this, but I also want to be supported. In this category is also my love for cheeseburgers. I love them. I can’t be dealing with a cheeseburger hater.
  4. I need someone who is interested in what I am doing. This is an extension of the thing I said above about wanting someone who wants and needs me. They don’t have to be interested in poetry or writing or gardening or whatever, but if it is something I’m doing, I want them to be interested in that and care enough to ask about it and talk about it.
  5. I can only compromise so far when it comes to my parenting style. I don’t know how much more I want to or need to change how things operate in my house. I’m all ears when it comes to advice, but I’m not going to start parenting differently. This is obviously bigger than a bread box, but becomes important when I start thinking about living with someone.

Thus far, my time with Simon has been good. He’s a good person with a unique and refreshing outlook on life. He’s a happy, positive person who is interested in health and well-being and staying active. We’ve had some great moments and I’ve grown as a person because of things we have done together. I’ve had instances where I felt such joy and the warm feeling of happiness inside.. and at least once where the words “I love you” almost slipped out of my mouth. However, I can’t help the slow methodical creeping of thoughts and those “red flag” instances piling up on one side of the scale.

The biggest thing at this point is his general approach to living. He wants to live in the moment and not think about the future. That, of course, is contrary to one of my biggest items.. the longevity of the relationship. If he’s never going to be thinking about the future, then there is no future for us. And if there is no future for us, then I’m not down for that. I spent five years of my life with the last guy, without a promise for a future, and I don’t intend to do that again.

So even without the temperature, distance, and parenting discrepancies, that’s the big thing. If somehow that changed, and he was suddenly wanting to plan a future and we started talking about that, the other things would come into play. There are elements in all five of the issues above that concern me.

The latest one happened yesterday when he made me a burger. He asked me if I wanted cheese and I said that I would defer to his taste on it since it was his masterpiece. He said he never eats cheese on a burger because it does not seem to have any benefit for pleasing the palate and that the two (burger and cheese) are really not meant to be paired for that reason. Now have you ever heard such blasphemy in all your days? I know I haven’t.

That was probably the last straw. Now I know I said you would think me crazy, and I does not hurt my feelings if you do, but this little nugget weighing on my mind, on top of all the others, just solidified what I already knew to be true but was in denial because I wanted so much for it to be just wonderful.

As with all things, timing is everything. It’s the holidays and we have plans coming up this weekend when his daughter gets back in town. I need to wait out the current PMS phase to see if my feelings will soften a bit, but I just can’t envision enough of a change in the dynamic to warrant some re-consideration.

I recognize my own failure in this process is my lack of communication which is partially due to a fear of rejection. I’ve been enjoying our time and did not want it to end so I’ve been mostly silent on all of this.. Including the cheeseburger comment yesterday. I need to be able to fix that. I’m just not sure how.

Just another problem my logical mind will most assuredly try to solve in its spare time (hopefully not while I am trying to sleep).

Enough for Now,
~Miss SugarCookie


2017-12-10 Like Plants Vs. Zombies – It’s About Time

A couple years ago Plants Vs. Zombies 2 came out and it was the long awaited, quite overdue sequel to the first game. That first game was something I had never played.

The truth is, I don’t play many video games and am not really into that sort of thing. I have a long history of having and sticking with my favorites.

Here’s the rundown…

In Jr. High we got an Atari 2600. It was mostly for my bro who amassed like 60 games from that time through the duration of us attending high school. I tried every game, but really only seriously played a few.

Joust – Which was fun and challenging and immensely easier than the arcade version (at the lower levels). I have a funny story about that game, but it’s too long so I’ll save it for another time.

Raiders of the Lost at Arc. This was one of the only “quest” games with a story that had a beginning and an end that we had. Once you solved it, there was no point in doing it again. Sometimes we would do it again just to see how fast we could solve it.

And my all time favorite Atari game.. Qberts Cubes. This was a spin off of the much more well known Qbert game which I actually hated. I was a rockstar at Qberts Cubes. I would sail through the lowest levels with ease and by the time I got to the harder stages, my brain was in sync with the muscle memory of every pattern and move I just kicked ass. I got in the zone on this game like other people memorized playing pac-man. It was most excellent. It was also the only game I could beat my brother at, so that probably boosted my motivation some. There’s another story about competition between us but that will have to wait too.

That was it for Atari. After high school my bro went away to college and I lost interest. I didn’t really get in on the inception of the Nintendo or Super Nintendo systems but I did end up investing in their Gameboy. I still have my first gen, black and white screen device that came with “Tetris” and it still works!

I had about half a dozen games but the only one that I played regularly was “Super Mario”. This, like “Raiders” was somewhat of a story. There were still levels and it was repetitive but there were boss fights and and a definite end to the game. I beat it too many times to count. Why it was still appealing after the first time, I don’t understand, but it was.

That phase of my life was still quite juvinile. Once I moved back to Omaha and got a “real” job, I dropped games completely. Then I went back to school to get my bachelors and then I had my babies and, well, time became a precious commodity. No more games.

Many, many years later when school was done, my kids were more independent, and I’d successfully navigated my divorce, I was re-introduced to hand held games in the form of apps on my IPod.

It was Rich who not only bought me my first IPod but also got me into Words with Friends and a puzzle game called Drop7. Other games came and were deleted quickly, but Drop7 had that “it” factor that kept me coming back for more.

When I started dating Matt, we went through a Candy Crush phase and that’s when I dropped Drop7. After that came and went, I didn’t find anything else that could capture my interest for a while. It was during those five years that Plants Vs. Zombies 2 came out, and though I was all about being on the green side, helping Dave re-find the perfect taco while thwarting the attacks of the relentless Zombies, I did not get very far before the levels just stressed me out. I didn’t like the speed-up and time constraint and if there is one thing I did not need of more of in my life, it was stress. I quickly let that one go.

This brings me both to the present day and my current game. Unlike all the others, I found this one on my own. I was at Starbucks and they had a free “app of the week” promo. One week it was this game called “Two Dots”. I downloaded it and have been hooked ever since.

Actually.. I don’t need to elaborate on this any further because I’ve already done that. My post from August 24th of this year gets down into the weeds a bit on it.


I’m currently on level 1140. There is no end to the levels or the game. It does not really get more difficult either, but the puzzles and challenges change all the time as they add different mechanics to the game. Maybe that’s the perfect combination for me. It’s easy enough to be enjoyable but challenging enough that my brain never gets bored. If only real life were like that.

My intention today was to go there.. to real life and finally hash through my current relationship woes. I’ve been putting it off for weeks now. However, now I’ve spent too much time reminiscing about video games and I need to get started with my day. I’ve got lots of stories to share, past and present, but there never seems to be enough time. Just like Plants Vs. Zombies.. It’s about time.

There’s Always Time for Tacos,
~Miss SugarCookie


2017-11-25 Grateful for the Not So Great

This past week was supposed to be all about being grateful, which I am. It was supposed to be about giving thanks and acknowledging those people and things in our lives we are fortunate enough to have. I feel like I do that all the time, in a way, so this week was nothing special. I’ve tried before to keep a daily record of what I’m grateful for but it typically fails after a week or two. Strange, because I am so good about writing about everything else in my life, but I don’t question it too much.

When I’m on a walk, like I went on yesterday around MY Walnut creek I always experience something new. Yesterday was so sunny and warm and also incredibly windy at the lake. Looking out over the water as I came around that most familiar bend was like being back at the Ocean. There were white caps it was so windy. For a tiny little lake like, that’s pretty impressive. I was sort of cursing the wind because it was so strong it was taking my breath away and blowing in my eyes so much my eyes were constantly watering, but at the same time, I was grateful to be able to experience that. So yeah, grateful even for things that are not so great.. that’s where it’s at.

Then we (I was with Josh), came around the other bend and I could see people on the little island on the lake that has a tiny bridge out to it and nothing more than a few trees and bushes and a bench. Every time I look at that bench I’m reminded of my history with it. It’s a rich history of deep discussion and contemplation and blossoming love and then in the end, heartbreak.

Growing up I always dreamed of how I might be proposed to, even though I swore I never wanted to be married. It was similar to having the names of my children picked out even though I never wanted to have babies. I imagined some handsome guy getting down on one knee in a romantic setting. Perhaps we were on a vacation at some breathtaking place or at a fancy restaurant. Often I was being picked up in a really nice car and just being driven away. Most of the time, it involved thoughts of rescue or escape from my lonely ordinary life to something extraordinary.

I never dreamed I would be proposed to over the phone from someone 1000 miles away, and drinking (my first husband admitted to being intoxicated when he asked me to marry him many years after the fact). I never dreamed I wouldn’t get to look that person in the eye and say yes and engage in the happiest warm embrace of my life. And I certainly never dreamed, that if that romantic destination and the down on one knee and the heartfelt speech were all together and played out just as I had always imagined that I would ever, in a million years, say “no”.

But that is what happened on that bench. That was a terribly emotional day. I agreed to meet Matt at Walnut for a walk and talk and he brought a pack with water and snacks to share on our island, on our bench. I broke up with him a week before that because things were not good between us and the shallow attempts on both our parts to change were clearly not going to be enough. I agreed to go and listen to him, but steeled myself and vowed to myself to stay strong and not give in to requests to get back together. I had no notion he would propose.

When we got to our bench, he took out a book.. a little blank journal that had a handful of pages filled out. He began to read. It was the story of our history together with words and thoughts he’d never shared with me before. He was shaking as he read it and crying and soon I was crying too. My walls were breaking down and I knew I was going to have a tough time sticking to the vow I’d made to myself earlier in the day. Then he got to the end of the story and did that thing that I did not expect. He reached into the bag and got down on one knee and tried to hand me the box and ask me to marry him.

That’s a moment I will never forget. It was just how I had always imagined, except that in my thoughts, it would be someone who loved me and wanted to marry me and commit to a life together because that is what we both wanted, not as a last attempt to get me back after the relationship was over. No, that’s not why you propose to someone and I realize the who and the why are more important than the where and the when. If I’d have said yes, my life might look a whole lot different now. I’d have that “yes”, but it would always be tainted.

Yesterday as I walked the path and looked out at that bench I was reminded of that day and that moment and that choice. I will always be reminded of it whenever I’m there. The memory of the look on his face and my internal screaming of “no, no, no, no, this is NOT how you propose to a girl, this is not how this is supposed to happen, you ruined it”, which came out in a very kind, “no, please don’t” as I took his hand and the box and urged him to stand back up. I will always remember having to make that choice. And I will always be grateful.

A few days ago, it was thanksgiving and it was a very easy day and I wrote about how easy it is to be grateful for all the wonderful things in my life. But it’s always easy to be grateful for the good. The trick is mastering gratitude for the hard times, for the tough moments, and for all the things in our lives which are not so great, but none the less, are part of what makes us who we are. I am who I am today partly because of that moment, and all the other tough times that I had to go through to get back to the good. I’m thankful for the opportunity to feel, and keep feeling and keep trying. I want to always try and find the good in the not so good. It’s tough to do until you are on the other side of it, but we should always try.

If we can do that, then, my friends, we have found a true gift.

Always and Forever,
~Miss SugarCookie

2017-11-18 Twenty Five Years Ago

I have this app on my phone that sends push notifications so I can be alerted when any of my fans are coming to town. It’s called “Bandsintown”. I gave it permission to scan through my the music library on my phone and then it sort of does the rest as far as alerting me when new shows are announced or there are other things of interest going on. Today I had a notification from R.E.M. What?

R.E.M hasn’t been active for many years now, but that band was on the top of my list back in the day and was one of those favorites I had in common with both Brian and my biggest HS crush, Scott. Whenever one of their songs comes up in the master shuffle, it kind of reminds me of those “dating days”. Of course when I saw the notification, I was like “whoa, what could this be about?”.

As it turns out, it is the 25th anniversary of them releasing the album “Automatic for the People”. This is one of my all-time favorite albums and I’ve probably played every song on it a hundred times. The song “Nightswiming” is in my top 25. I’ve probably played IT several hundred times.

That song in particular does not elicit thoughts of other people or memories about high school and college, but it’s very methodical and therapeutic and the lyrics speak to me in a very profound way. It is an emotionally liberating song for me. If I had to pick a song that captures the essence of me, that one may just be it.

Since I had that notification early today, I’ve been listening to that album all day. I’ve just now switched my shuffle to include the other five albums I have in my library. This includes:
Dead Letter Office
Automatic for the People (of course).

I still have the physical CDs of all of these. That’s how we acquired our music 25 years ago. I own them. I don’t have to rely on some streaming music service or paying some subscription fee to listen. I might never get on that train.

Yup, 25 years ago, R.E.M. was releasing a new album/CD and I was in my sophomore year in college dating a guy who had just started his military career in the Air Force. That seems like a lifetime ago. Oh how time flies.

Thanks “Bandsintown”, for the temporary time machine and for keeping tabs on all my fans so I don’t have to.

Throwback Saturday,
~Miss SugarCookie

PS. I’ve never wondered until today what R.E.M. stood for. I mean I know REM stands for Rapid Eye Movement, but it never occurred to me the acronym for the band could be something else. I googled it and it isn’t something else. Apparently it was chosen at random from the dictionary by band member Michael Stipe (according to the almighty wiki). Of the other names they considered, this one is far superior in my opinion. I may not have had the same affinity for a band called “Cans of Piss”. Just sayin’.

2017-11-16 The Measuring Stick

Spoiler alert. This one is long, has backstory, AND poetry.

It’s clear that I’m in a much better place today than I was this time last year. I don’t really need a reminder, but sometimes it’s good to have a measuring stick. Some way to know just how far I’ve come. The value in me writing every day, is that I always have that to look back on and it solidifies my progress. It helps me remember just how terrible I felt so I can appreciate my life now even more.

Of course there are certain instances and events that stick out in my mind, but in reading what I wrote a year ago, I find things I have completely forgotten about, such as a random poem.

This time last year I was still hopeful about a reconciliation with Matt. The percentage chance was definitely dwindling but I was still foolishly holding onto hope he would go with me to my sisters wedding in Mexico. Knowing what I know now, that was so stupid, but I didn’t have a window to see the truth of the situation at the time, nor did I have a crystal ball.

This time last year I spent every day thinking about that, and work, and toggled between crying and being angry. I was not sleeping well and plagued with headaches. I recognize that at that point, even after everything we put each other through, I would have taken him back if he would have agreed. In the end, I guess it was a good thing he started seeing someone else right away.

On this exact day last year I only had one journal entry, and it was a poem. I had forgotten all about writing that. I wrote “hundreds and hundreds of pages” of words, but in all of it, there were only a couple of poems. There’s a deeper meaning in that I think.

Anyway, I must have thought it was really crap to not remember it and not go back and try to revise it to make it something better. Typically if I think something is worth anything at all, I will work it over a little bit and then consider posting to my poetry blog. But not this one.

It’s about me taking back my ring (or asking for it back). I had given him my favorite ring with a pledge to really try again and promised to work on the things that I knew I had the power to make better. I had said that we could reboot and start again and if at some point he wanted to make more of a commitment, he could do that by giving me that ring. I’m not much into fancy jewelry or diamonds, so giving him a ring I would like to wear that fits my “ring” finger seemed like a good idea.

I don’t regret doing that or saying what I said. I always want to say what I need to say, regardless. At that time,I wanted him to know I was “all in”, and I accomplished that. It was like my “hail Mary”. Obviously, I didn’t score.

I wrote the poem about asking for my ring back on November 16, 2016, but I never followed through with that. I held onto hope. I wouldn’t actually get it back for three more months (February 22, 2017), and it was not because I asked for it, it was because we met for dinner and he brought it with him to give it back to me voluntarily. By that time, I had started posting my daily writing on this blog, so that’s also available (one of my favorites of the year so far actually). Here’s a link:

The Return of the Ring

As far as the poem goes, I played with the last few lines and though I definitely don’t care for it, it’s not so terrible as to toss away forever. I might even file it in the “archives” of my main blog. We’ll see.

My Ring

It’s OK.
I’ll take back my ring
And you can have your key
And then you will be free
Free of me and free to be
Who you want to be
But be warned
Being free
Is not all it’s cracked up to be
It can be lonely and sad
When you think about what you had
Or what you could have had
Maybe you wont
Maybe I’m wrong
I can’t pretend to predict
What will happen
In a life that’s so long
So I’m saying so long
Fare thee well
Please take care
It’s all OK, Fair is fair
You can have what’s yours
And I will have mine
I’ll take back my ring
And we’ll both be just fine.

Now, here I am a year later, and I have my ring and he has his freedom to live his life anyway that he wants without the burden of commitment.
Not only do I have my ring, though, I have learned something and moved forward with my life. I’m still making mistakes daily, for sure, but I’m always learning.

There is a lot that has happened between last November and now in my life and my struggle to get back to feeling OK with the end of that relationship is just one piece of that puzzle. I’m glad that I’ve written it all down. I’m glad that I have that record of how things were and how they have changed. As I said a few days ago, the human mind and memory are flawed. It’s nice to have something concrete to use as a measure for where I am at today.

Today was a good day. I hope a year from now I’m looking back saying “yeah, that was good, but now things are just amazing”.

Inch by Inch,
~Miss SugarCookie

2017-11-09 How I Really Feel

The major disclaimer that I professed when I started this blog is that it would contain my raw, unedited feelings about everything that I have gone through and everything that I am going through. I do make an effort to keep things as transparent as possible and as “readable” as possible, but some days that’s just not possible. Today is one of those days. So this may seem a little bit all over the place.. and quite raw.

Yes, I just got back from one of the biggest vacations of my life, and there’s something more hidden under the surface of that which has yet to be revealed.

Yes, I am just about to start my period and as such I’m more emotional than normal. Typically, I recognize these days and try not to over-react to things or over-think things and above all else, not make any rash decisions. Historically, I will know that how I am feeling may be magnified by the hormones in my body wrecking havoc on my brain, and if something comes up, I tell myself “wait a few days, and if you still feel the same, then go ahead and address it then”. That has worked and I think kept me out of a few conflicts I may have otherwise entered into needlessly.

I am an open book for anyone who wants to know anything about me. All a person needs to do is ask. Most people don’t ask though. Most people just don’t care. I get it. Everyone is living their own lives where they are the center of the universe and it’s up to me to care about me and try not to worry too much that nobody else cares about me. My kids care about me, but even with them, they are the center of their own universe too, so they only care so far as their interests are concerned.

Before I went to Hawaii, I had several people ask me about it. I told the truth. I said I’ve always wanted to go, and that I had once thought the trip would be a wonderful romantic destination and even thought it might be where I would go on my honeymoon. I would say this and then follow that up with “but that never happened, so I decided to go anyway.” I’m sure I said this with a sideways smile.

It’s wonderful I was able to go and I want to be grateful and I am grateful but, god damn if I don’t also feel just so upset that this worked out the way it did. It feels unfair. I feel so unloved. What I did not disclose until now is that one of the most emotional moments I had was when I sat down in my seat on the first plane to come back home and buckled myself in. In that instant, I just burst into tears.

I had shared every wonderful picture I took on Facebook so people could see every place and thing we saw that was picture worthy. I wanted that for posterity but also so people would know we went and think we had a great time. The rush of emotions I felt on the plane was instigated by thoughts about my failed relationship with Matt. I was supposed to be on that plane with him. I was supposed to be living with the love of my life and planning the rest our lives together. I was supposed to be going home to “our” home, but instead, I was headed for a big empty house (save for my kitten), and facing the reality of my life decisions.

I’m unemployed, single, struggling to raise my kids right, and constantly battling the big question of “what am I going to do with the rest of my life?”. Why can’t I figure it out? Why does it seem so freaking important that there’s a man in the picture? Why can’t I just be happy being alone. Why can’t I just be content to work on HL7 for the rest of my career? Why does it have to be freezing cold in Omaha? None of it seems fair.

I’ve been waiting for over a month now to get word on my MFA application. Each day that goes by I get more and more irritated that they have not gotten back to me yet. Don’t they know that my whole life hangs in the balance? Not that I can afford that shit now anyway. So that’s irony for you.. If I have a job I can afford the MFA program but I probably will not have time to do it.. If I don’t have a job, I’ll have plenty of time, but I won’t be able to afford it.

Tonight I’m going to a show and tell story slam. If I can keep from loosing my nerve, I will be on that “stage” telling a story (more like reading). Ironically, the entire story is a metaphor for the finding and loosing my love for Matt. None of those people know me, and hey, I know they don’t care anyway, so it won’t make any difference what my story is. I can’t help but think about the fact that I wrote that in 2015, way before the worst year of my life in 2016. I wrote it way before the first time I broke up with him. I wrote it way before he proposed to me. Way before the final curtain.

Yes, in May of 2015 I was already writing about finding and losing that part of me that was romantically in love. In truth, it was more about me loosing the feeling of love than it was about Matt or anything else. It took another year and three months before “we” were really done. And tonight, I’m going to stand up in front of an audience and tell a story that conveys those feelings. Perhaps there is no better time than right now with my emotions being on overload to allow those feelings to show through. I just have to be brave and get up on that stage.

I’ve been struggling a lot today just to keep it together. All I want right now is for the rest of this day to fly by so I can go to bed and wake up tomorrow and hopefully have some relief from this grief. I have so many more things running amok in my head, but I’d better just stop now and see about getting myself together for this story telling.

Impatiently waiting,
~Miss SugarCookie