"Every day is like Sunday, every day is silent and grey"...
That's just a lyrical quote. And it's not true. Every day isn't like Sunday, it just seems that way, on Sundays. Sundays are my hard days. I just have to remember that, on Sundays.
There's no job to go to, no work errands to run, no boy to deliver to and pick up from school, no boyfriend around, nothing pressing to do to keep me occupied... There's just a whole lot of nothing.
Sundays suck.
Today I did get to take the boy out for a few hours for some mini golfing and go-carting with mom and my nephew. That was fun. But it ended as all other days with him always do, with me dropping him back off at his dad's, where he prefers to be. I'm so tired of that. I'm just so goddamn tired of missing him. My heart hurts. Still.
It's funny, sometimes I think I'm almost getting used to it, this being alone thing, the empty nest thing, the being ditched as a parent thing.... seeing him only when he swings in for a few minutes, or when I take him to school and/or pick him up, brief visits here or there... I get through every day and night, get used to living alone, being forgotten, go about my life... But there's always a void, an emptiness, a great sadness that's left from him not being here. And it'll never go away.
I never imagined this is how things would be. Especially considering how close we have always been. I never saw this coming. And I'll never understand it. Or get used to it. Or get over it. Sigh.
Anyway...
I fucking hate Sundays.
Things at the bar are status quo. The first priority mortgage on the building is now in foreclosure, and so we wait for that to complete its process, and for the bank to hold its auction. At that auction, my bosses will bid (they know what they are willing to pay for it), and we will all hope and pray that they will be the highest bidders. I don't expect to see an auction until late October, at absolute earliest. And I think that's being optimistic. We could be well into November before the auction takes place. The foreclosure process still has to be completed, and then they have to advertise for three consecutive weeks before the auction, so we have a bit to wait. Hurry up and wait. And stress, and stress, and stress.
I want a dog. Almost so much now that I dream about it. You ever get that way? When you really want something, you start having dreams about it? Anyway... I've been looking and looking and looking. I've been going through the adoption process with one rescue in particular, and I'm not real impressed with the process. Lots of people put in applications for this one dog in particular. I happen to be one of the "qualified candidates". It took a bit to get there, too. A lengthy adoption application, references, veterinarian reference, a home visit... Well, I have more questions for the foster family, and I wanted to meet the dog before I made any final decision. Unfortunately, I was told that IF she's still available when she comes to Maine on the 23rd, then I could meet her. Because if one of the other "qualified candidates" speaks up and says- we want her, then basically, viola, she's adopted and no longer available. So essentially, once you are determined to be a "qualified candidate", from there it becomes first come first served, I guess. Huh.
Anyway...
As it turns out, my life may have just gotten far too busy for a dog anyway. Unfortunately? Fortunately? I haven't figured that part out just yet...
As many of you may have seen from my various social media posts (facebook, instagram, snapchat), I may have begun a new musical venture. My old drummer from Bitter Grace brought a couple guys to our attention recently and we all got together last week to test things out. Now, you know me- musical snob, extreme critic- I didn't go into it with great expectations. By the end of the night I was pleasantly surprised at the outcome. It shows promise. As far as I can tell, we're all on the same page as far as level of interest, commitment, etc. We all want to learn, work, and play out. And none of us suck, lol. Sadly, I learned I've lost quite a bit of my register over the years though, when I attempted to sing one of my all time favorites (and a song that I've been well known for singing for many years). Damnit. Anyway...
We just might have ourselves a Bitter Grace rebirth. Stay tuned.
I dreamt of my dad twice this weekend. It was nice to see him. Sad, but nice. He looked young in last night's dream. It was too short, though. I wish I could have spent more time in it. I miss him so much.
I still miss the lake. But it's becoming a fuzzier memory. It's funny how memories do that; become less and less clear the farther you get from them. Even though it has only been a few months. Maybe it's not becoming fuzzier, maybe it's just becoming less painful.
I'm getting used to my new home. It's not so terrible now.
Although, I can't help but think I won't be here forever. Not for very long. Maybe only two or three years. Maybe I'll relocate once Dawson is out of school. Maybe to a coastal town.
Maybe a place like Belfast.
Time for Netflix, I guess. Get through the rest of this silent and grey Sunday.
Be well.
