I'm just your average, everyday, divorced 38 year old girl -- overweight, tragically unhip,
and trying to make a life for myself. I live with two furry beasts, Dave and Abby, whose
feline mission in life is to choke me with their fur. Nothing special.
Friday night. Yes, I know it's been forever since I've been here - consider me shamed. I've had really good intentions, though! (What do you mean, "The road to He** is paved with good intentions"???) In any case, here is a bulleted list of things that have happened this week (because I'm too lazy to be clever or think in proper sentence structure):
* Managed to get the condo in reasonable enough shape to have cleaners come. Afterwards, the condo was beautiful and yet still cluttered and claustrophobic in its own neglected, decaying, stuck-in-the-70s sort of way
* Condo stayed clean for about eight hours until I had to drag everything from the spider-infested, dirty, and dusty balcony into the living room so that the contractors could sandblast and then start painting all of the outside surfaces of the complex. Yup, had just under two days' notice and they won't be done for two weeks. Yup, that means everyone in my building is going to have to have the contents of our balconies in our living rooms through the upcoming holiday. Super duper planning, idiot Property Management and Homeowners' Association folks!
* Did not get more than five hours sleep Monday or Tuesday night in order to make the above two bullets happen. Consequently, did not follow through on plans to go to TCB's, clean his poor, abused condo and then cook him a lovely, candlelit dinner on Wednesday when he came home. I do, however, have two placesettings of china, stemware, and stainless plus all of the associated serving pieces, as well as candles, candle holders, and wine all ready for a lovely dinner at some point.
* TCB was scheduled to arrive in Oceanside on Amtrak at about 6:30pm Wednesday, so I left work (in San Diego) at 5pm in order to be there on time. It took over an hour to negotiate the 30 miles of snarled traffic but that was OK because he called at about 5:45pm to let me know that he'd missed the train because of traffic between LAX and Union Station, so he wouldn't be getting home until 8:25pm. Went by Petco to get stuff for Abby and Dave, got Taco Bell, procured TCB's spare key from his pet-sitting neighbors, found that the kitty box hadn't been tended to during his absence, and - nearly overcome by unpleasant cat-byproduct smells - watched TV while eating atrociously. Once TCB was picked up from station and further cat supplies were purchased at Petco, I crashed out on the sofa while he puttered around trying to make things liveable again. He woke me up at 11pm to tell me that he was going home and I got to drive home (45 minutes) because I had an early meeting at work the next morning.
* After another long day of meetings, I took Alcott to see his sister in her school's talent show last night. I cannot believe how rude the audience was - hooting and hollering throughout the performances to the point that I couldn't hear half of her solo. (When I mentioned same to Alcott, his comment was, "Yeah, that school's pretty ghetto." I'm guessing that doesn't mean good things but I didn't ask him to elaborate.) Genevieve, the other CASA, picked up the youngest sibling at 5pm and I picked up Alcott at 5:30pm for a 6:30pm concert and it took her 75 minutes to go about 20 miles while 25 miles took me just under an hour. Needless to say, because both boys hadn't had dinner when we whisked them away, by the time the show ended at 8pm they were starved. The four of us went to Subway, got four sandwiches for us and one for a sibling who hadn't been able to attend, then munched away just as though we were any other family in America. The Chinese lady behind the counter asked me if Gen and I were sisters and I told her we were just friends but that the boys were brothers. "Are they your sons?" she asked, to which I replied that they, too, were just friends of mine. "You take good care of your friends, just like Chinese people do. You will have good luck!" (Man, I hope she's right!) Alcott was dropped off at home at 9:30pm, I got home about 9:45pm and vegged on the sofa until 11pm.
* My alarm went off this morning at 6am, just as programmed, and I got up just a little later but, unfortunately, dozed off while eating breakfast on the couch. I woke up at 8:15 - unshowered and nowhere near ready to leave for work - and realized that I had a very important 8:30 meeting. In fact, I had meetings booked for every minute of today from 8:30am until 5pm. Seriously. I ended up moving several that were more discretionary to next week because I just don't have the emotional energy to deal with it right now.
* One of my former team members from my last position here at VLSCI made a crack about having talked to TCB and said that he'd been asked to be part of the wedding party. Oh, OK, then. Wait just a minute...what did you say??? What wedding? I don't care if the VP just started the All Hands, answer the question you coward!
Monday night. OK, when I decided to get Maid Brigade to come out and make my house clean and sparkling I thought it would reduce my stress. I should have thought about my tendency to procrastinate plus how messy/cluttered my house is and realized that it would get me into a highly-stressed out state the night before the cleaning crew arrived. If I had known then that I would spend the entire weekend thinking that they were coming on Wednesday instead of Tuesday (which is the actual arrival day!) thus not being prepared and not getting enough done over the weekend, I might have called the whole thing off.
Gahhhhhhhhhhhhhh...there are probably eight loads of laundry on the floor in my bedroom (can't vaccuum that!), I need to change my sheets (there's another load of laundry to do!), both toilets need to be scrubbed (don't even ask!), I need to vaccuum and steam clean the carpet in the corner of the dining room where Dave the Cat has been leaving me presents (otherwise they'll gag on the smell), not to mention putting away all of the things that clutter the tops of tables, armoires, the fridge, and my bureau (I think it's all going to go in the guest room with the cats, their litter box, and cat food). I had really hoped to use this as a good way to cut down the clutter but now it's all just going to get shoved in a closet or the guest room so I won't be able to truly enjoy the Zen of a clean house because I'll know that the clutter is still there, lurking.
This is why my house is such a mess - I can't just do something small and be satisfied, it's all or nothing!
Sunday night. What do you picture when I say the word "home"? Visions of Mom and Dad and your siblings and the cat that you grew up with? Your childhood bedroom complete with stuffed animals, Duran Duran posters, and your doll collection? Perhaps it's your spouse and children and the home that you've all made together. The official definition talks about a house or place of birth and those are both true, too.
What about the over 500,000 children in the United States who have been removed from their homes due to neglect and abuse, and placed in the foster care system? These children have had their confidence and self-worth destroyed, and even more devastating, have experienced the loss of family and identity, leaving them searching for a sense of belonging. What does "home" mean to them?
Nearly a year ago, I began volunteering with Voices for Children and became the Court Appointed Special Advocate (CASA) for Alcott (a pseudonym), the most fantastic (then) 13 year old boy ever. Quiet and reserved, he was not easy to get to know but, as I persevered, I found a gentle spirit, a quick mind, and a heart-breakingly beautiful - albeit rare - smile. As the months have passed and I've become part of Alcott's extended "family" (CASAs, foster parents, group home staff, his siblings, his caretakers), I've watched him in many different situations and, while he's nearly always polite and agreeable, he always kept a piece of himself removed, safe. I've had to break his heart and very nearly lost hope that things would be OK.
Then, about a month ago, his situation changed and so did everything else in his life. Another woman that knows him remarked upon the change in him and I have seen it, too. I've tried to describe the outward manifestations of the change - he's more relaxed, he smiles and laughs more, and he's more self-assured - but then I realized that none of that told the whole story, that my words were inadequate to describe the magnitude of what had happened. And then the right words came to me: he's home. He's found that place where he can exhale and stop protecting his heart because he's safe and he's loved and there's no need to hide who he is. It's a place most of us take for granted because we've never known a life without it, but, as he has so many times in the months we've been together, a little boy has shown me just how lucky I am.
