I don’t have a theme to this post, or anything in particular I need to get off my chest, to work through, to say. I’m just feeling…chatty, I guess, feeling like nattering on about inconsequential things, something I haven’t done here in quite awhile. Sometimes it seems like everything I write here has to be “Important” with a capital “I”, or that I am so bound up in things that are happening and desperate to walk my way through them in writing (because that’s how I work things out best) that everything I write is heavy with the weight of its own significance (at least to me.) But tonight…no, I just feel like writing. I was so inspired I couldn’t even wait until I got home (though once here I did do two hours of homework before I allowed myself blog time.) Here is what I “wrote” via voice while I was driving:
I’m writing this – or rather voicing this – on the way home from work. I’ve been let out early because icepocalypse is going to happen at any moment. That’s right, the whole world is going to be covered in ice, and even though it is actually 38 degrees as I leave my office, everyone is quite certain that the only way to be safe is to leave immediately. (And who the fuck am I to argue with a boss saying, “get the hell out”?) But it did afford me the opportunity to stop by the grocery store to get the essentials in case of impassable roads, a blizzard, life-threatening weather, etc. Like, you know, 2 inches of snow. You know what I’m talking about: a french toast emergency! We may freeze to death but we’ll be well fed and full of french toast before we go.
Okay so I have to say, my list doesn’t actually consist of all the makings for french toast. I mean, I assume the roommate has the major fixings cuz she’s good like that, so I got all the OTHER things we might need in case we are snowed in for more than, say, five hours. Here is an unedited list of what I got at the grocery:
a pound of ground beef
English muffins (because nooks and crannies)
3 spicy fried chicken tenders
3lbs. of halo oranges
Jack Daniels Tennessee Fire Whiskey
Jose Cuervo Skinny margaritas
caramel ice cream
cinnamon bread (in case the roommate has only HEALTHY bread at home to make french toast)
a bottle of white wine
maple rum baked pecans
pre-made chicken Parmesan
two scented candles (they were just sitting there in the check-out lane. I think it was fate that I buy them.)
Apparently these are the things that I deem necessary to survive an ice blizzard.
So anyway I am alone tonight. This is because 1. I don’t go out to V’s on Thursdays anymore; and 2. the roommate has plans and she’ll be out all night, or at least as much of it as would constitute all night.
And I find myself delighted by the prospect.
Not the prospect of not getting to see V, because the reason that I can’t see him remains a sore point, but the honest truth is I don’t actually want to see him every Thursday night, and this would happen to be one of those Thursdays when I would not want to see him. Having the house to myself is a learned pleasure.
I walked into the house tonight, threw my bags down, put groceries away, put on my comfy socks and immediately jumped into programming homework. I graduated this past Tuesday from the CoderGirl program, but I still have work to do before we start in again on phase 2, the Project Track, next Wednesday. I have a long way to go before I feel I’ve earned that graduation certificate. And I was excited about homeworking tonight.
There was a moment when I wanted to communicate with V. I had a thorny homework problem and needed some guidance. But we have agreed to radio silence when he should be paying attention to his family. I completely concur with this. In fact I had suggested it, long ago, but things being what they are, his/her/my time had blended together and those boundaries weren’t always honored – not because I didn’t, but because I hadn’t known they were there. That’s changed a bit, and I am actively trying, not only to respect them, but to reinforce them. Still, tonight, on the way home, I had expected that he would be available for homework stuff. He usually is, early evenings, on Thursdays. Getting home, realizing he wasn’t, and… Yeah, there was a twinge. I thought about reaching out in an unobtrusive way, in case he wasn’t ensconced in family stuff, but refrained from even that. It’s important to honor boundaries.
This poly stuff. This relating in ways that…sometimes goes against one’s needs or wants, in order to uphold or honor another’s. It’s heavy stuff. And at the same time, it’s incredibly liberating. My heart feels open and light having done the right thing. This isn’t about tit for tat. I may never know if this is appreciated or reciprocated. In fact, it probably won’t be. But that is not what matters. What matters is in this moment, I have done right. I have given because I love.
And that sounds sanctimonious as shit. But that’s not how it feels. It feels…authentic. It feels…almost like a return to who I was, before. I can glimpse that woman, occasionally, out of the corner of my eye. And she is someone I like. Someone I wish to emulate.
Oh, and PS? I am going to make the BEST fucking french toast anyone had EVER tasted tomorrow. Just sayin’.