Wednesday, July 1, 2009

Learning to Be Single Again

Ha! Fooled you. There's no such juicy drama. Dan and I are still going strong. But since he started renting a room in Detroit a little over a month ago, I have often been going it alone. Even though I know it's best for us in the long run (he gets his research and dissertation done sooner and then we get to bust out of these sinking peninsulas!), it's really tough for me in the present. At times, I've been miserable. I ask myself, how did I spend so many cumulative years as a single person? And after great reflection and remembrance, I've found the answer - booze and cigarettes. Well, I'm not eager to resurrect those habits, so I'm looking for other ways to cope.

This activity helps. I don't know if anyone reads this blog (other than the person who said that I "dress up" pedophilia), but it feels good to put my writing out there. My only other writerly outlets are work related, and consist of occasional propaganda newsletter articles for so-called "foodies" and my corny, pun-filled meeting minutes (for which I receive an absurd amount of praise). You know, Ben Franklin considered punning a vice, and in his autobiography, admonished himself for wasting time in such a meaningless pursuit. Then again, he worked way harder than I ever have, which is why I will probably never win fame or riches for my writing. But I don't need those motivations. For me, it's compulsive. If I don't write, and I don't give others the opportunity to read what I write, I don't feel so good as when I do.

When I'm not writing, I'm usually reading magazines. Dan got me a Harpers subscription for my birthday and I treated myself to a year of the New Yorker. Between those, I keep abreast of current events and get my regular reminder that the world is a sad and fucked up place for most humans. Seriously, I think that reading that sort of journalism is good for me. It pulls me away from my lonely woe, helps me appreciate that I really hit the jackpot when I was born a white American, and fertilizes my compassion. What could be wrong with that?

I'm learning to drive! I have my second lesson tomorrow. The woman from the driving school is really nice, and has a soothing way of talking a lot about nothing. I know she does this because she can see that I'm nervous. But I think I did pretty well my first time out. I drove myself all the way home from work! Now that's pretty powerful, cutting that one-hour commute down to a 15 minute jaunt.

Other than that, I guess I spend the rest of my solo time preparing meals, tending to the garden, hanging out with Matt and Bizzy, and practicing songs for karaoke. It's not such a bad life, but last week was really hard. It was terribly hot. I was still sick from the previous weekend, premenstrual, and alone. I indulged in some awfully self-pitying activity that included Better Made potato chips, French onion dip, PBR and some "Star Trek" DVDs. That isn't my best self.

Well, I have about 3 more weeks of this single life (with weekend husband visitations). I'm going to try to make the most of it. The temperature is lower, I have my health back, and my period behind me. I have plenty to read and hopefully even more to write.

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