I wonder...I wonder why I start so many sentences that way.
My weekend in a list:
Day one:
While I actually accomplished a lot this weekend--I tell you, that bathroom floor was appalling--including plenty of relaxing, I didn't put pen to paper once.
When I got to work this morning, I realized I have a pile of stuff to do. I know that if I actually do some of it I will feel better. I have procrastinated long enough and now I'm "busy." Yet...I...can't...move. Not exactly, though. I spent the whole day on ONE task that should have taken about an hour. It did take about an hour, interspersed with some email, phone calls and goofing off. Ugh.
Is there anything more interesting than complaining about work? I talked to Curt yesterday. He's out of town until Tuesday. I went to see a wonderful film on Sunday, a vague autobiographical film, Les plages d'Agnes, by Agnes Varda, and it left me feeling lonely. After talking to Curt that evening, I felt on a more even keel. I went on and on about the film but I'm not sure I made much sense.
Is it wrong to admit that I'm still a little mixed up? We did have a little chat last weekend and Curt was extremely understanding. My instinct is to push all the thoughts and feelings about Kent to the side but I can't quite pretend he doesn't exist. That isn't required of course but it does contribute to this slight feeling of rushing headlong into something--yet I've done nothing (much) to slow things down. It's not like Curt and I talk on the phone every night or have seen each other more than a couple of times a week so far. But, still, that feeling is there and it's real and we have moved rather quickly along the dating continuum. I am happy but I also feel sad. I am ready to move on and give myself over to this new thing but I am not ready to be hurt again and I feel a tiny hesitation and fear on those grounds.
When we're together, all is well. Being apart for several days is no hardship but it does leave room for thinking. Dreadful. One of those thoughts is maybe it's not going to "work out" and it would be best just to forget it now and maybe he's already decided it won't do and I did x, y, and z wrong and that's what he's going to tell me the next time we talk.
Then I have to shake my head and laugh because those kinds of thoughts have nothing to do with reality and I have no call to descend into such gloominess. I don't want to be a downer, after all.
This week is shaping up just fine. I may actually make it to knitting group on Tuesday. Then I'll see Curt on Wednesday. Baseball with Pele (finally!) on Thursday. And, not to get too ahead of myself, but perhaps another date will materialize over the weekend? Who knows.
Grateful for: a relaxing and productive weekend.
My weekend in a list:
Day one:
- reading
- farmer's market shopping
- errand running, long delayed
- sitting in sun
- reading
- quite a lot of weeding, not planned
- minor grilling
- knitting
- knitting
- more weeding
- reading
- house cleaning
- walking
- movie watching
- talking
While I actually accomplished a lot this weekend--I tell you, that bathroom floor was appalling--including plenty of relaxing, I didn't put pen to paper once.
When I got to work this morning, I realized I have a pile of stuff to do. I know that if I actually do some of it I will feel better. I have procrastinated long enough and now I'm "busy." Yet...I...can't...move. Not exactly, though. I spent the whole day on ONE task that should have taken about an hour. It did take about an hour, interspersed with some email, phone calls and goofing off. Ugh.
Is there anything more interesting than complaining about work? I talked to Curt yesterday. He's out of town until Tuesday. I went to see a wonderful film on Sunday, a vague autobiographical film, Les plages d'Agnes, by Agnes Varda, and it left me feeling lonely. After talking to Curt that evening, I felt on a more even keel. I went on and on about the film but I'm not sure I made much sense.
Is it wrong to admit that I'm still a little mixed up? We did have a little chat last weekend and Curt was extremely understanding. My instinct is to push all the thoughts and feelings about Kent to the side but I can't quite pretend he doesn't exist. That isn't required of course but it does contribute to this slight feeling of rushing headlong into something--yet I've done nothing (much) to slow things down. It's not like Curt and I talk on the phone every night or have seen each other more than a couple of times a week so far. But, still, that feeling is there and it's real and we have moved rather quickly along the dating continuum. I am happy but I also feel sad. I am ready to move on and give myself over to this new thing but I am not ready to be hurt again and I feel a tiny hesitation and fear on those grounds.
When we're together, all is well. Being apart for several days is no hardship but it does leave room for thinking. Dreadful. One of those thoughts is maybe it's not going to "work out" and it would be best just to forget it now and maybe he's already decided it won't do and I did x, y, and z wrong and that's what he's going to tell me the next time we talk.
Then I have to shake my head and laugh because those kinds of thoughts have nothing to do with reality and I have no call to descend into such gloominess. I don't want to be a downer, after all.
This week is shaping up just fine. I may actually make it to knitting group on Tuesday. Then I'll see Curt on Wednesday. Baseball with Pele (finally!) on Thursday. And, not to get too ahead of myself, but perhaps another date will materialize over the weekend? Who knows.
Grateful for: a relaxing and productive weekend.
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