Today as I drove the six hours from Greenville to Nashville, I had some time to reflect. On just how much. I need. For 2007. To freakin' be OVER. Let's recap.
Homeless - 9 weeks.
Unemployed - 9 weeks (these 9 weeks did not coincide with the first 9.)
Depressed - OH - MOST of it.
Enjoying job - approx. 6 months (not same job.)
Dating someone interesting - 0 weeks/months.
OK - not feeling the utmost of "nostalgic" right now, but ironically, feeling the most hopeful I've felt in a while. Why does the flip of a page on a calendar give us such hope? What is so different about this next week and how I react and act in it, as opposed to how I acted/felt/WAS this week? I don't know. But there it is. The hope.
After being with my grandmother and mother over the last six days, I have come to the conclusion that I am, in fact, adopted, regardless of what those quaint full-belly pictures in my baby album say, and I have concluded that if I carried around a small notebook while spending time with said women of my family, I could create a dialogue for a poignant, Golden-Globe-worthy screenplay of a spoof of Steel Magnolias, as my matriarchal ancestors are unbelievably - trite - predictable - stereotypical - I seriously do not KNOW where I came from. "One of these things is not like the others..." - this does not come close... Today in my car, somewhere between Atlanta and Chattanooga, I felt that my fingernails were painted black, I was wearing smudged, kohl eyeliner, and that my hair was purple - I felt like an angsty teenager trying to get as far away from my family as I could.
And today, I would like to get as far away from 2007 as is humanly, spiritually, physically possible.
Helplessly hoping.
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1 comment:
Boy, do I get that. Every bit.
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