Nothing but Blue Skies (Not)

March 1, 2009 § 1 Comment

It’s almost time to leave Florida, and as always I’m torn between my two lives. Charles and I have knit together invisibly, through dinners and walks and days and nights. I don’t want to leave and it’s harder now than usual, because what’s waiting in New York is so scary.

I may be leaving New York this summer for a couple of years, and having to go back and face that and all the effort that has to be expended to make it happen—all the while thinking that I should be trying harder to make it NOT happen, looking for work, though there is no work, and what little I might find would not be enough

—and the feelings from losing my house in the country rise up

—the debacle of renting it after endless months of fixing it up to rent, scrubbing the oven until my arms were bloody, the wasp nest I had to kiss a man to get rid of, the cleaning woman who had an anxiety attack and quit, Jennifer who broke her tooth falling forward against the roof while getting rid of the borer bees which is why I resorted to kissing the plumber to handle the wasp nest, the water with antifreeze in it, and the spiders and the snakes although the snakes were fine with me it was my tenant who had a problem

—and then emptying the house to sell, until only my study had anything in it (a pile of blankets and a laptop to play music, a bottle of scotch and the sound of the wind)

—and I feel sorry for myself because the bad dreams only stopped coming in the last six months

—and none of this is very much compared to what others are going through

—ok, but it’s the not knowing

—but everybody feels that

I’m just sad.

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§ One Response to Nothing but Blue Skies (Not)

  • Andree Pages says:

    Hey, sweetie. I’m sorry. It’s cold and rainy here, but there is the extra bedroom. Rents here are also plummetting, with 2-bedroom apts available for $500 a month. You’re in my thoughts.

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