Weirdest week ever. I found out that I could move into the house that my parents helped me get. I was so stoked to move in….until I actually moved in [Mr. 72 was more excited than I was actually]. It was such a weird feeling to move into a house that didn’t feel like home. I have mostly new stuff since I didn’t want much from the divorce so it’s all new, unused, and not home, yet. Luckily, Mr. 72 said he would stay the night with me the first night. It’s nice to have someone there while you get used to the sounds a new place makes and, well for me, I’m scared of the dark, so that helped too. (don’t judge). I don’t know why I was just not excited. It was too quiet, too sterile, to unfamiliar.
6 days later and it’s nice having my place. I hate unpacking but I’m finding joy in creating a huge Goodwill pile. I want to do away with clutter, the unneeded. It still doesn’t feel like home though. It’s missing family, memories, and laughter. Maybe I will throw a little get together soon so I can start creating some memories around the place, maybe then it will be home.
Yesterday was my first family memory created. I was unpacking and while my dad put tile in the bathroom and letting Smiles run around out back. I decided to water the lawn and trees while I watched Smiles and it was so nice for him to have a home. He is so comfortable here, so at ease and loves that he can run around the whole house willy nilly. He looked like such a big boy, so proud of himself, and talking like I understood exactly what he was saying. [he’s such a character…goofball] There’s not much he can get into and he has free rain on the backyard. It’s perfect for him and for a minute, I felt like a good mom. I felt like I had made good decisions and that Smiles was happy.
My first real memory in this house was on Friday night. I didn’t have Smiles and I had just found out that I wasn’t going to be doing the job I was doing anymore….short story. My acting manager was sending me back to my permanent job for reasons I don’t care to go into. I was UPset. I was nervous about telling Mr. 72 because I felt like I had failed, that I wasn’t smart, and that he could do better than me. I reluctantly text him and told him what happened and he felt awful for me. I was crying and really didn’t want to talk to anyone so I didn’t invite him over. My plan was to put Smiles to bed, drink wine and pass out. Mr. 72 text me…it was too cute:
You see where this is going?? He was so sweet, he brought me flowers (wild flowers, my favorite), wine (Red Diamond…special to us), and wings. Oddly I felt a little worse…I really couldn’t get myself to believe that I deserved someone so amazing, so thoughtful, so perfect. He’s so successful and smart and driven that sometimes I don’t feel like I am enough for him….especially that day. I got drunk…half a bottle down by the time he got over. I don’t even know if I drank the rest of the bottle or if he had some too. I remember crying a lot. I remember being mad at my old manager for being so […not going there] and mad at myself for not pushing harder. Not sticking up for myself and not proving my worth. Lesson learned…don’t trust people who aren’t trustworthy. I let her make decisions for me and I shouldn’t have done that. My fault.
Skip ahead to Monday morning and being in my old job. I feel great that she let me go. I wasn’t happy there, she was horrible to work for, and I need to find what will make me happy, what I am good at. As for her….Karma bitches!